Never Quite As It Seems
by abc79-de
Summary: [RL][RJ]. Rory's journey of finding what was and can be. Complete.
1. History Repeating Itself

AN: This idea has been in my head for weeks now! And after that last eppy, it seemed to fall more together with what was already in my head, all I could think of was getting to my laptop and getting this pounded out—but life kept jumping in my way. But once it yelled loud enough at me, I pushed life out of the way for some alone time with my laptop. Anyhow, I'm not giving out the exact pairing, but it will focus on Rory and some explorations she goes through. Other characters to be interspersed as I see fit. And remember, review, review, review!

Time frame: Just after Not As Cute As Puskin

Rating: PG-13. For now.

'Another note,' she thought as she let her book bag drop down from her shoulder to the floor. Her mouth turned up slightly, forming a half smile, as she moved to rescue the note from her windowpane that it had been secured to. She hadn't spoken to Logan for three days. It had been three days since her glorious revenge. Seeing his face contort in horror at the prospect of their impending engagement. . . her grandfather was deliciously evil. And the fact that he was that evil to help her out, well, that was just icing on her revenge cake.

It looked as if Logan was the ultimate good sport, however. Once again the note had been written in his handwriting.

'Same time, same place, same drill. Bring your mask and I'll provide the proper attire.'

She tucked the note safely away in the current book on her nightstand and began the homework she needed to get out of the way.

&&&&

No longer feeling odd in her current state, she waited to feel the familiar tug of Logan's hand on her arm as she stood in the archway with a blindfold covering her eyes and a small bag on her shoulder, which held her mask and some personal effects.

She heard her watch beep on the hour, and as if on cue, his hand made contact with her arm, dragging her off to yet another event.

"Come on, Ace, we gotta hurry," he urged her as he continued to walk faster.

"What, we're going to be late for the clam bake?"

"We've got a long drive tonight."

"How far of a drive?"

"For a girl who likes rules, you sure don't like to follow any, do you?"

"Logan."

"Watch your head," he instructed as he helped her into the SUV.

"Can I at least sleep 'til we get there?"

"At your own risk," she could practically hear the smirk in his tone.

She sighed and leaned back against the seat, willing herself to stay awake. She could never guess where the events would be held, or what they would entail. He'd mentioned that authorities all over Connecticut would like to get a hold of them, so they couldn't be going too far, right? God, if only he would just let her ask questions. It should be well within her rights, to know of her own whereabouts. Otherwise, she was just being willingly kidnapped. Hating the fact that she sort of liked that part of this process, she decided that perhaps a nap wouldn't be the worst idea in the world.

&&&&

"Wake up, Ace, we're here," came Logan's voice, coaxing her back to consciousness.

"Ah, here. The place I've always wanted to visit," she joked.

"Come on, you'll have a good time. Have you ever not had a good time with me around?"

"As a matter of fact," she began.

"You can't lie to me. You have loved ever single infuriating moment," he said, slipping her blindfold off. Partially because there was no reason for keeping it on now, and partially because he wanted to see the reaction on her face.

At the same time, she glared and smiled at him. Turning her attention outside, she noticed night was beginning to fall. She also noticed they had gone much farther than she'd anticipated.

"Logan!"

"What?"

"We're in New York," she informed him, as if he hadn't noticed.

"You don't say."

"Why are we in New York?"

"Well, we tried to get them to move Coney Island so as to decrease our travel time, but the bastards just wouldn't do it," his eyes twinkled at her.

"Logan, the amusement park isn't open this time of year," she explained.

"Nonsense. Now, come on," he said, opening the car door and exiting.

She followed behind him, wondering what they were up to now. It was December, and no theme parks in this area of the country were open in December. What kind of fun could they have with a deserted amusement park? Just before they got to the main gates, Logan turned and extended his hand.

"Come on, we need to go get ready," he told her as she took his hand, having no other choice. He led her out to tents that had been set up on the beach side of the park, pointing out hers that was right next his own.

"You'll find clothes, in plain view," he smiled before disappearing into his own tent.

She made her way into the tent, and noticed a dress that looked like it had fallen out of the 1920s. She looked around, wondering exactly how this had become her life. Going to places that were restricted for the rest of the world, wearing amazing clothes—she loved it. She had no idea how or why exactly this had come upon her, but she made quick work of changing and getting to the action.

Logan waited for her outside her tent, now dressed to look like a man from 20s, knickers and all. She had to smile and take his arm as they headed off to the main event.

&&&&

Stepping into the park, she was beyond amazed. It was completely lit up, full of frenzy and mayhem. There were people working all the booths, rides, and food stands. There were people calling out to come see this attraction or another. Everyone milling about was dressed similarly to herself or Logan—all the girls wearing drop-waisted dresses, or boys' trousers. She must have looked as shocked as she felt, as Logan pulled her closer to him.

"Go with it Ace. You belong here as long as you act like you do," he whispered in her ear.

"But, how, why," she said, looking into his eyes.

"Well, we have one general rule: Never monkey with tradition. And this," he flourished his hand at the scene in front of them, "is tradition. Come on, let's hit a dangerously fast roller coaster, shall we?"

She moved in pace with him, though she desperately wanted to stop and inspect every happening around her. These events were like cultural history lessons, more lifelike than she could probably even guess. It was literally like seeing a book unfold before her eyes.

Stepping into the coaster car, she looked for the lap restraint. Finding no bar or belt, she looked to her partner in crime.

"No safety bars?"

"We had those removed. They ruin the illusion."

"Logan,"

"What, you want out?"

She stared at him for a moment, thinking what she really wanted. Did she want to get out and not fully experience this? Could she be more reckless and throw her better sense out the window?

"Just a little trust," he said, and she nodded. Sitting down properly in the car, the guy that put the ride into motion yelled for everyone to attempt to keep all parts of themselves they'd like to retain near the tracks. Feeling her heart lurch, they moved forward into the night.

&&&&

Walking around later, all appendages intact and slightly exhilarated from the night from the past, she was finally able to feel a part of it all. Eating cotton candy from a large stick, she turned to Logan.

"Why me?"

He looked at her as if he didn't understand the question. Instead of asking for her to clarify her meaning, he turned it back on her.

"Why not you?"

"I mean, you let me into this world, why?"

"You don't like it?"

"It's not that, it's just," she glanced down, and noticed that some people were beginning to head towards the beach. There were campfires made, and people were dancing and singing—all still in character—out past the tents.

"Just what? Relax, enjoy yourself. That's all I'm trying to get you to do. Is that so bad?"

"No," she smiled, "It isn't."

"Good."

"Hey, Logan!"

They both turned. She knew that voice, and he did as well. He smiled and walked over to the man coming up to them. He wasn't dressed in the period, but that wasn't what made him so obvious to her.

"Hey, you have to take off?"

The other man didn't respond. He was now looking past Logan, to the woman staring blankly back at him, holding the remains of what used to be a giant fluff ball of pink and blue.

"Jess?" Logan asked, looking between the two, wondering exactly what the problem was.

AN: Do it. You know you want to. Just hit the little button marked 'review' and talk to me.


	2. Walking After You

AN: Wow. The response to the first chapter was, wow. I'm touched. As for those of you who want all the details, and the methods to my madness now—patience. All shall be revealed. I promise. Know that it makes sense in my head, if that is of any reassurance:) Happy reading!

Continuing to look between the two only made Logan certain of one thing: whatever their past, neither remembered the other warmly. There was almost a physical temperature drop there in the space between them. Her arms crossed protectively over her chest, as if just standing in his presence could bring her harm. Jess held her gaze, holding no real emotion on his face other than in his eyes. They, however, seemed to speak of a long, complex history.

"God, what are you doing here?" she erupted. It didn't startle either man—both had seen her temper emerge before.

"It's a free world last time I checked, and frankly, what I do is none of your damn business."

"You never change, do you? You evasive, arrogant, selfish bastard!"

"Hey, now I thought you reserved those kind of pet names for me," Logan tried to interject lightness in, but they weren't allowing him.

"How are you even here?" she asked Jess.

"He's doing me a favor. I needed him to--," Logan began, trying to calm her.

"Don't, Logan, she needs no explanation about my activities."

"So, what, you just get to pop in and out of my life, ruining things?"

"Hey," he yelled, moving past Logan, stopping just short of Rory. "You can't just reinvent our past to make it so that all that ever happened with us was my leaving! Don't pretend that all that hate you're carrying around just sprang up out of nothing!"

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she attempted to hold them back while she retorted, "No, you put it all there!"

"You can't hate something you didn't first love," he said calmly, looking into her eyes for a moment. When he realized she had no verbal response or comeback, he turned back to Logan.

"Like I said, I gotta cut outta here."

"Right. I'll be in touch," he said, slightly confused.

Jess nodded and turned to leave. He took one more look at her, looking as if she stepped right off a page from The Great Gatsby, then walked off through the park.

Logan turned to Rory, who was obviously still spooked. "Well, if I know you, you are probably dying for some sort of explanation right about now," Logan reasoned, hoping to restart her verbal capacity.

She shook her head, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. She pursed her lips, and she looked up at the sky.

"No," she breathed, "I just need to be alone."

'Damn,' he thought as she retreated back to her tent. He'd been hoping for some enlightenment himself. She'd let go, finally enjoying herself until Jess showed up. And Jess, while Logan knew there was no short supply of girls for him from what he'd witnessed, wasn't one to let a relationship get as complicated as what seemed to have contributed to the scene he'd just witnessed. He believed the word love had even been used, and effective in silencing her.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he walked down the beach to join the festivities that the others were still participating in, taking in the New York skyline as he went.

&&&&

Seated on her cot inside the tent, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on the singing and laughter coming from the group on the beach. She had no idea how long she'd been sitting there, and she didn't care. She wanted to be transported back to the happy-go-lucky feeling that Logan had created in and around her earlier. She hated the feeling that had hit her as soon as she saw Jess walking out from behind some of the booths, like the wind had been sucked out of her. He'd been dressed similarly to the way he was when last she'd seen him—in that damn leather jacket he wore like some sort of badge, and jeans. His hair was a bit shorter, and he looked healthier. She couldn't imagine still how on earth he knew Logan, though it did seem that everyone else in her life did, so why not him?

And worst of all, now she couldn't quit thinking about him. Groaning, she laid back against the pillow, trying to think of other things. She tried to wonder about what activities would come along for the next day, as these overnight events seemed to entail multiple functions. Years of traditions tend to do that, she supposed. How could Jess be a part of a Life and Death Brigade tradition? It just didn't make sense. Not that he ever bothered to give her any sort of clarity.

Deciding that holing up in her tent wasn't going to get her mind off of Jess, she got up determined to go join the group and do what she came here to do: lose herself in this new world she seemed to have stumbled upon. She reached for the opening to her tent flap, to find someone standing on the other side, as if waiting for permission to enter.

"I can't believe this! Why won't you just go away?" she said, backing into her tent.

"I didn't know you'd be here," Jess said quietly.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here as a favor to Logan, you know that."

"To do what? And how is it possible that you know Logan?"

"How do you know Logan, Rory?"

"We both go to Yale," she informed him indignantly, though she was positive he must know it already.

"Lots of people go to Yale. These parties are fairly exclusive, are they not?"

"What do you want from me, Jess?"

He sat down on her cot, making himself comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as he dared to get right now.

"I wanted to see how you were."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Gee, thanks for that, but you can go now," she said curtly.

"Rory, do we have to do this every time we see each other?"

"What do you want from me? Civility? Post-break-up sex? 'Cause let me tell you, neither are likely from me right now."

He looked at her for a while. He knew it was a mistake to double back through the crowd to see her again. He honestly hadn't seen her when he approached Logan, but that was of no matter now. The encounter had occurred. As always, the damage done.

"I just wanted to see how you were," he said again.

"I don't see why you care, but I'm fine. I'm really just fine. Besides, other than this freak occurrence, I don't foresee us seeing a lot of each other, we don't need to be on good terms, do we?"

"I guess not," he answered, his jaw set.

"Then, please, just go."

"That's really what you want?" he asked, not moving to leave yet.

"Please, Jess," her voice was weak, and she looked so tired and fragile to him.

He nodded, and stood, wordlessly leaving her tent. She looked in the mirror to compose herself, smoothing her hair and dress before exiting the tent after him. Just as she looked around to see where Logan had wandered off to, she noticed him just a few feet from her.

"Logan, hey," she gave a smile, walking up to him.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Sorry, about all that."

He nodded. "He came back for a second round?"

She looked around, as if to make sure Jess were really gone, and nodded.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. It's just, complicated. I don't really want to think about him anymore tonight, okay?"

Logan leaned his head towards the party, giving her a smile. She smiled back, and fell in step beside him as they wandered off to the ongoing party down by the water's edge.


	3. Maintaining Legacies

AN: Well, I'm gimpy for a while. I sprained my ankle really badly, and can't work for a while. So hopefully I'll be getting a lot of quality writing time in during the meantime, since it's all I'm really able to be doing. Thanks SO much to everyone who has been reviewing!

Her sleep wasn't fitful, for she'd been too exhausted to even function past breathing during her slumber. She'd stumbled into her tent in the wee hours of the morning, after spending the remainder of the evening being egged on by Logan to let go and have fun. For some reason, all it took from him was a glance, the lilt in his voice and to see his eyes smile for her to do what he asked. He pulled her up and twirled her around, dancing for what seemed like hours on end, laughing and drinking all the while.

What she hadn't counted on was the ungodly hour that he would awaken her at. She wondered where these people got all their energy, and the reasons behind Finn's seemingly continuous crankiness became clear to her. Perhaps he had Logan waking him up way too early after keeping him up way too late night after night. She wanted to tell him all of this, but all she could manage was a perturbed groan as she tried to pull her blanket up over her head.

She felt the weight of his body depress her cot down near her hips, and she turned her body away from him.

"I know you're awake," he teased her.

"Go away."

"I can't go away. You have to get up, and if I go away, you'll go back to sleep."

She wanted to hit him, for knowing her so well. "What are you, stalking me? Bugging my dorm room? Phone taps and mini-security cameras? Talking with my mom, finding out my early morning habits? No, wait, you know my grandparents, maybe they told you," she said, rolling over to look at him.

"Well, look at that. I believe the lady is awake," he smiled.

"Ughnn," she moaned, trying to pull the blanket back up over her head. He shook his head, and pulled the covers the other way before she got a good hold on the comforter.

"Come on, we're going to be late. And I know how you feel about punctuality," he teased.

"Late for what?"

"A very important date. Come on, I promise no run-ins from ex-boyfriends today."

She looked into his eyes for a moment, and then looked down at the blanket. She'd almost forgotten seeing Jess. Jess. She had to just let it go. She'd told herself after each encounter since he took off the first time. After the phone call during her graduation. After the 'I love you' hit and run. After his last request. . .

"Hey, you okay?"

She looked back up into his eyes, full of concern for her. He'd looked at her the same way the night Dean had left without her at the 'Gotta Get Rory a Man' bash. It was like this guy could see inside her head and her heart sometimes. Which completely wigged her out, seeing as she'd known him just a few months.

"I'm fine. I'm feeling sort of stupid, but I'm fine."

"Stupid would be the last adjective I'd use for you," he raised his eyebrow at her.

"I just wish my ex-boyfriends would quite popping up in your vicinity," she told him, still looking a little sheepish.

He smirked and stood up. "Get ready, I'll meet you outside in ten minutes."

She smiled and nodded, watching him leave her tent. She had no idea how he did it, he just made her feel better. He could be infuriating at times, but in the end, she ended up with this smile on her face and warmth in her stomach.

&&&&

Logan pulled out his cell phone, walking down the beach a ways for privacy. He dialed the number, and watched the way the sunlight was playing on the water. People were disassembling the tents behind him, taking away all traces of their invasion.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey, did everything get done?"

"Yeah, but this isn't about that."

"What's it about then?"

"Rory."

"Logan," Jess sighed.

"What the hell was that about?"

"It's none of your business, and besides, it's in the past."

"It didn't look that way to me."

"Just stay out of this. It's nothing."

"I think it's best if you stay away from her."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, it won't effect our dealings in any way, but," Logan explained.

"I'm hanging up now."

"I mean it, Jess, keep your distance."

"When did she become your concern?"

"Recently."

"You guys aren't together."

"What makes you say that?"

"You aren't her type."

"Look, Jess, you've been warned. Stay away from her, I mean it. Goodbye."

Logan flipped his phone shut and hurried up the beach to meet Rory back at the tents. She had her belongings with her and he gave her the trademark smile before escorting her to back to the car.

"Another ride?"

"Yep."

"I'm guessing I shouldn't ask where to?"

"You catch on so fast, Ace," he smiled as she slid into the backseat of the SUV. He threw their bags in the back and hopped in next to her. The others piled into the car and they began to head out ahead of the others from the Brigade.

&&&&

As they roamed towards Times Square, Rory began to get concerned. She looked up at the tall buildings all around her, wondering just what their next task was going to be. She recognized members of the group, seemingly blending into the thousands of people that were going about their daily lives around them. She knew better of course, and was curious, as always, as to what was about to unfold around her.

"We aren't going to jump off of one of these buildings, are we?" she leaned close to Logan, so as not to let anyone else hear her.

"Not unless you really want to," he informed her, his face serious.

"What tradition are we supposed to partake of in Times Square?"

"Well, we're sort of going about creating one, actually."

"Creating one?"

"Each generation has to add something to the list, as a sort of legacy for those that will come after us."

"So as to keep kids thirty years from now from ever getting to attend a single class?"

"You've cracked the plan!"

"So, what exactly are we adding?"

"Patience. They say it's a virtue, you know."

She rolled her eyes, wondering what could possibly unfold next. Before she could even formulate a prediction, she heard a familiar voice calling out from behind her.

"Hear ye, Hear ye!"

That was Finn. Only Finn sounded like that. She turned to see her classmate standing on a small crate, slightly elevated above the crowd. Some people on the street had noticed him, but strange people screaming on the street weren't a big cause for concern in New York. It happened. Most people were still walking on by.

"Announcing, the greatest show on earth! It's got thrills!"

"Don't jump!" came the overly dramatic voice of one of the boys she'd run into at the first Brigade event, one who wouldn't use the letter E. She now wondered if he still wasn't. He was calling up to someone who appeared to be about to jump off of the ledge on the MTV studios building. Her eyes widened, not seeing a safety harness or anything of the like. Before he could jump, another shout rang out.

"It's got chills!" Finn's voice boomed again.

A girl screamed behind her, causing her to whip around. Stephanie slapped Colin, trying to get away from him, but he grabbed her and pulled out a knife and held it up to her throat.

More people were watching now, and Rory could just see them all ending up in jail for the night. The conversation with her mother already playing out in her head. Her mother had been snarky enough after her coming home drunk, dripping in diamonds in a limo filled with boys. Calling from a New York jail cell probably wouldn't be appreciated either.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we've even got romance!" Finn continued his spiel.

Logan grabbed her suddenly, whipping her around so that they were at a better angle for the mass of people to see.

"I'll love you forever!" he yelled, dipping her quickly before a sound of protest could be made, kissing her as if it were V-J Day.

"The Lion King has nothing on us! If you want to make the most of your New York experience, don't miss our opening night! Be there or be square!" Finn warned, taking a bow before stepping off his crate. All the 'players' bowed dramatically, Logan pulling Rory down with him, before taking her hand to pull her in the direction of the subway. They'd all scattered, blending back into the populace as the cheers and applause continued, in appreciation for the street performance. Finn ducked quickly into a deli, attempting to get away from tourists asking for information on their 'play'.

Now finding herself sitting on the subway, she looked at Logan with disbelief.

"What the hell was that?"

"What, a guy can't kiss his fiancé?" he raised an eyebrow, referring to her own prank that she'd pulled on him earlier in the week.

"You think you're funny."

"I know I'm funny."

"What was that?"

"We drew for each part, I got romance," he shrugged.

"That's what you're adding for the next generation?"

"Well, it will weed out the timid," he shrugged. "Besides, it's fun! Our generation, if you hadn't noticed, is all about the fun. And what's more fun than performing in Times Square?"

"Well, I think it's a pretty pitiful addition," she shrugged cavalierly.

"And what would you have us do, pray tell?"

"It's really not up to me," she said, indifference in her voice still.

"You've got my attention. Regale me, oh Queen of Mischief."

"Well, first of all, I'd start in Boston," she ticked off her points on her fingers.

"Boston?"

"Well, last I checked that IS where Harvard is located."

"I see where you're going. Continue."

"I'd bring the gorilla masks," she ticked off on another finger.

"Gotcha," he nodded.

"And since you're looking to weed out the weak recruits, I'd do some streaking in said gorilla masks across Harvard Yard. In the snow."

His smile spread slowly across his face. He had to admit, he liked how she thought.

"Done."

"What?"

"You don't think you can put such a great idea in my head and not see it through, do you?"

"I'm not streaking Harvard Yard."

"Where can I get you to streak?"

"No where! This was more of a boys' activity. Boys streak. Girls do not streak!" she laughed, leaning into him.

"Oh, contraire! What the men-folk do, so do the women. We're equal opportunity pranksters. I thought you knew," he smiled at her.

"I'm not streaking," she said definitively.

"Oh, we'll see about that."

She shook her head, trying not to smile at his self-assuredness. They fell into silence, as they waited for their stop.

"Was that really your addition to this weird legacy craziness?"

"No. We were just out for a bit of fun before we returned."

"I should have known."

"Our next big event is initiation."

"Initiation?"

He nodded, his face serious. "We like to give a taste of what's going on before putting you guys to the test."

"Us guys?"

"I thought you knew. You're in," he said, looking at her as if it had been common knowledge.

"In? How did I get in? Because you guys say so?"

"Well, it doesn't really work that way. You're a Gilmore," he explained.

"I know I'm a Gilmore. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Evidently you didn't do as much research as you should have done. You found my grandfather, but you didn't find yours?"

"My grandfather?"

"And your great-grandfather, and beyond that. You're more than just a Yale legacy," he informed her, with a soft smile.

"Whoa," she uttered, trying to let this idea wrap around her.

"And thanks for the streaking idea. I think it'll be a great way to welcome you newbies in," he laughed, as she scowled at him, poking him in the ribs to get him to stop.


	4. These Ties Are Knotted

AN: As always, thanks for the reviews! I have been a little knocked out by pain meds, but the story ideas continue even then. Hope you enjoy this next installment!

Rory sat at a table in Luke's Diner, the remains of both her and her mother's breakfasts still on the table, her only companion at this point. It was strange, being back in this town, as it seemed to go on the same while she was away. It went on without her, as if she'd never come or gone. Everything was the exact same, but looked completely different to her.

Perhaps the largest difference, that was more than noticeable to her, but went on without even a bat of an eyelash from any of the townspeople, was the obvious closeness that had formed between her mother and Luke. They'd been dating for months, most of it out of the sight of Rory. She'd been with Dean when it began, and not told for some time, then she had been in Europe and back to Yale. All the while her mother had seamlessly adapted to having this man in her life. In their house. All her life, there'd been no man. Lorelai had failed to show her the proper way to act around a man, and now she was struggling her own way through it only to come home to see this display of love. Her mother was most definitely in love, and anyone in this small hamlet could have told you that Luke was in love with her years ago. But now, seeing shared moments behind the counter and the way he watched her walk off—it was Rory's wake-up call.

Lorelai sat back down, bringing the coffee pot back with her. She sat next to Rory, whose gaze was somewhere far off.

"Hey, I got us some coffee," she said, breaking Rory's attention on things far away.

"The whole pot?" Rory raised an eyebrow.

"Well, there are perks to dating the diner man," Lorelai sat up a little straighter.

"Does it include seeing flannel shirts in the dryer?"

"What happened to 'I'm glad you two got together?'"

"I am happy, I'm just not used to seeing manly things around the house."

"Like flannel shirts?"

"And men," Rory added.

"Man. One man. Luke. We like Luke."

"Yes, we like Luke. I'm sorry, I'm just transitioning here."

"Well, you've been off getting that fancy education. But I have you for Christmas break soon, so you'll get used to it a little more, hopefully?" Lorelai asked, not realizing it would be weird for Rory to have Luke around all the time.

"Right. I can't believe it's almost time for finals again. I have so much studying to do."

"I thought you'd been studying a lot lately. You haven't been home for weeks," Lorelai reminded her.

"Well, I have, this semester is just really busy. Especially with paper stuff. Lots more responsibility now," Rory half-lied, leaving out the excursions she'd been taking with Logan. Her mother would just worry and tell her how evil society life was, and how her grandparents were somehow behind this to 'rope her in'.

"Alright. Oh, man," she said, cringing.

"What?"

"Do me a favor?"

"What?" she looked at her mom questioningly.

"I left something upstairs, and I need you to go get it."

"Why?"

"I'm not allowed upstairs without Luke. Something about him not trusting me not to snoop for my Christmas present."

"Mom, why can't he get it?"

"Well, one, he's obviously busy," she pointed out as he refilled coffee cups.

"And two?"

"It's girly."

"Girly?"

"Tampons," she whispered

"You left tampons in Luke's apartment?" Rory whispered back.

"It's not that weird."

"It's kinda weird," she informed her.

"I'd just gone to Doose's and came here, and I wasn't going to leave them on the table while we ate, was I?"

"I suppose not," Rory scowled.

"Just go get them. I'll pay, and go rent videos, and meet you at home."

"Luke is just going to think I'm snooping for you," Rory pointed out.

"No, he knows you're much too honest and do-goody for that," Lorelai shook her head.

"Do-goody?"

"Go!"

"Fine. But you owe me!"

"Add it to the list," she said, kissing her daughter's cheek and heading up to pay for their meals.

Rory sighed, grabbing her coat and looking over to Luke before disappearing up the stairs. A wave of nostalgia swept over her. She remembered checking for Luke's attention to be elsewhere before sneaking up the stairs to arrange for some uninterrupted time with Jess during her senior year of high school. When he knew of their time together, Luke would always try to make sure to barge in periodically. Shaking the thought from her head, she made it to the door, and put her hand on the knob. She knew it was silly to think of him, and it was only because she'd seen him in New York. Opening the door, she was hoping her mother would have left the bag with her purchases in an obvious spot, and not have to go sorting through Luke's things.

She headed to the kitchen, looking for a Doose's bag when the bathroom door opened. She jumped back a little, not quite sure what to expect. Her eyes fixed on him, towel wrapped around his waist and hair still dripping wet.

"Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you--?"

"Mom, uh, my mom left something here," she explained, unable to turn her attention away from Jess's form. She'd seen him in a towel before, and many times without a shirt. She tried to push all memories of him shirtless out of her head quickly, to make room for new thought. Thoughts that would enable her to have an actual conversation and get the hell out of there.

"Okay. Are you okay?" he asked, concerned for her as he watched her fumble for words.

"Yeah. It's a Doose's bag."

"What is?"

"What Mom left. Have you seen it?"

"No."

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I came to help Luke work on Liz's house."

"Right. Mom told me they bought a house here."

"Yeah. TJ's not much of a handyman."

"Right."

Silence fell over them. Neither had moved, looked for the bag, or twitched for that matter. Jess came to realize that he was still standing there in the towel, and wondered if that were the reason for her lack of yelling or inability to blink.

"I'm going to go get dressed. I'll help you look for the bag," he promised, and she nodded. He disappeared into the bathroom, and she turned around, desperate to find what she'd come for. She moved from the kitchen over to what was obviously Luke's bed. It'd been slept in last night, she was guessing by Jess, but she didn't know. Luke has spent the night at their house last night, looking very comfortable about it all, despite the weirdness factor she'd felt.

"I'm sorry about New York," he said, reemerging from the bathroom. She turned quickly, her search coming to a halt.

"Why?" she sighed, not wanting to go into this.

"Because, we can't seem to have a normal conversation, you and I," he explained.

"What did you expect, really?"

"We were friends before."

"No, I was your friend. You were trying to get me to date you. There's a difference."

"Like what's going on with you and Logan," he nodded.

"That's a completely different situation."

"He likes you, Rory."

"He does not," she glared at him, tired of people telling her as such. First Marty, causing a weird strain in their friendship, and now Jess, who didn't even know what he was talking about.

"I know him, I've seen how he looks at you."

"How do you know him, anyway?"

"He didn't tell you?" Jess looked surprised.

"No. After you left, he started too, but," she bit her lip.

"But what?"

"But I didn't want to talk about you, okay?"

The look in her eye was enough for him. He could see the hurt. Hell, he could feel the pain there. He nodded.

"Okay. Do you want me to tell you?"

She nodded. Her curiosity had been peaked, after all. Of all the men in her past to happen to know one another, this was the last combination she would have put together.

"Logan's aunt married Jimmy's brother," he began.

"Jimmy?"

"My, uh, dad," he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Anyway, she was probably excommunicated for slumming it, but at any rate, Logan'd come to New York last year, right after I got back, to make plans for the Coney Island trip. Jimmy had told me if I needed someone to stay with that wasn't my mom in the city, to look my uncle up. I had gone over there one night, and Logan was there as well. We started talking, and he was telling me that they needed people with certain mechanical skills to do some defaming of Coney Island," he smiled, as if he really enjoyed the work.

"So, anyhow, we arranged for me and some friends to go and dismantle the lap bars and make it a bit more 'historic' shall we say."

"So, you were one of his minions?"

"I'm not a minion."

"He hired you?"

"They do pay well, those society types. Especially when it's illegal," he put his head to one side.

She nodded, looking away from him. It made sense, and in all honesty, she should have figured as much. It was strange to hear him talk about family in any way. He'd always sounded like an orphan as much as he'd mentioned anything about himself in the past.

"Why are you telling me all this now?"

"You wanted to know."

"You don't owe me anything," she reminded him.

"Yeah, I do."

More silence. She sat down on the bed, forgetting her quest for the moment. She looked up at him, and noticed that he seemed to be studying her.

"I think you should be careful with him," he spoke again.

"Jess," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I mean it. He has his eye on you, and these people can get you into a lot of trouble. Not the stupid kind of stuff that I did, real trouble," he urged.

"You don't even know Logan."

"I do. He's invited me along to parties when they're in New York, seeing as we're sort of family, and I keep my mouth shut about their activities. You don't want to get messed up in some of this shit, Rory, trust me."

"I should go," she stood, not wanting to hear anymore.

"Rory," Jess stood, trying to catch her before she got to the door.

She turned and looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to let her leave. He stood in front of her, looking into her eyes, knowing she wouldn't leave until he wanted her to.

"Take this," he said, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. "Just, promise me you'll use it if you need to," he urged.

She looked down and saw what she assumed was his cell number. She folded it neatly, and looked at him once more. She nodded and then turned, rushing down the stairs and out the exit, past a perplexed Luke, towards home.


	5. The Last Thing On My Mind

AN: Sorry, the muse isn't talking to me as often as she does normally. Took a few days to get all this down and in a coherent form. . . Hope you enjoy this next installment.

She was back in the SUV, to which she may be incorrectly assuming belonged to Finn. He was the only one she'd ever seen drive the vehicle, and even then, she'd only seen him drive on the way back from a function, though she had heard him complain while in the car to several places. She'd never been allowed to witness them actually enroute to their various destinations. She was hoping that would all change after this weekend, however.

This was _the_ weekend. The last weekend of the semester before break: Initiation weekend. She'd asked Logan, when he'd mysteriously appeared at the library while she was researching for her poly-sci paper, where they were going and to give her a clue as to what they were expected to do. He just smiled, and told her not to worry. After her chat with Jess, and his number anonymously programmed into her cell phone, she wasn't about to put up with Logan's charm as an acceptable answer. She wanted what she felt she deserved. If she were truly a legacy, she deserved that much, right? She fixed him with her most unwavering stare and waited.

To her shame, his retort of, _I'd never let anything happen to you_, convinced her. Of course, to her credit, he'd said it with that look in his eyes. She couldn't quite put her finger on the emotion he evoked in her when he seemed to look into the very depths of her, but it was strong. Strong enough to make her say okay. Strong enough for her to be sitting blindfolded in the backseat on her way to what might be her unraveling.

But not strong enough to make her leave her cell phone at her dorm.

They arrived, or at least the car stopped and she heard the people filing out of the car. Logan tugged on the back of her blindfold, releasing it off of her. He put a finger to his lips and looked her dead in the eyes.

"I need you to be completely silent, go with Stephanie, and just do whatever she tells you, got it?"

Rory nodded, looking as grim as he sounded. Not to scare her, he broke into a smile, showing her that it was still all in good fun. She didn't look completely convinced however.

"Look, tonight is going to be the best night of your life. It's just important that we all get there carefully, and to do that, I need you to go with Stephanie. You're completely safe."

She gave him another nod and a hesitant smile before exiting the car to find Stephanie, at the ready with both of their overnight bags.

"Hey, Ace," she said brightly.

"You can call me R--," she began, but the other girl held up her hand in protest.

"You'll be glad of the alias. Especially one that only we know," she offered, sounding cryptic.

"So, what, Stephanie isn't your name?"

"Not exactly. . ." the other girl smiled.

Rory stopped in her tracks, as she saw the doors out of the parking garage in sight. The glass doors led into a hotel. The doors were labeled Fairmont Copley Plaza, in gold lettering.

"Where are we?"

"You're a smart cookie, I'm sure your deductive skills are better than all that."

"But why?"

"You'll see. Come on, we need to check in, sis," she said loudly, much louder than her hurried whispered tone that she'd been using up until this point.

Hearing Logan's voice in her head once again, and deciding that she should probably get her head checked just because of that, she nodded and smiled at the other girls, wondering whom they were putting on this show for. Entering the main lobby through this garage entrance, she held back her awe in attempts to act like she belonged there. She'd been in the presence of luxury and the uber-ritzy wealthy set. But she was beginning to think that her exposure to that lifestyle had been more limited than she originally believed. Logan had been coaching her all this time that if she just acted like she belonged, everyone else wouldn't question it. And he'd been right up to this point. Walking along side Stephanie, they stopped at the main desk and she let the other girl do all the talking. Once they were checked in and their luggage taken to be delivered to their room, the pair made their way up to their lavish suite.

Looking around, Rory noted that the suite could probably sleep at least six more people than themselves.

"Is this all for just us?"

Stephanie flopped down on the king-sized bed in one of the two bedrooms, looking out the French doors at Rory.

"Huh?"

"This suite. It's just for you and me?"

"Of course, silly. Not that we might use it very much, but it's here in case."

"In case of what?"

"Relax, we have some time before we need to get ready. Let's talk."

Sighing, realizing this girl wasn't going to give her much more than Logan ever did in the way of details, she moved over and sat down on the edge of the big bed.

"So, what's the deal with you and Jess?"

Rory looked at the other girl in surprise. She should have known, as Stephanie was a part of the group that Logan was always with, whether it be at official events or not. So, she was probably at the parties Jess had mentioned. The idea of this other girl talking about Jess in a casual manner, as if she knew him as well or better than Rory bothered her. It shouldn't, and she knew it, but telling her stomach that was a different story.

"There is no deal."

"I don't believe you. What, you dated?"

"A long time ago."

"How long?"

"Two years ago."

"Two years isn't so long ago."

"It feels like another lifetime," Rory admitted, playing with the edge of the bedspread.

"He's really hot," Stephanie sighed.

"How do you know him?" Rory narrowed her eyes, not meaning to sound quite as bitchy and possessive as her words were actually escaping her mouth.

Stephanie shrugged. "He's around, usually at our New York parties. He knows Logan."

"What goes on at those parties?"

"You know, typical stuff. Why?"

Rory was silent for a moment, wondering if Jess had just planted this seed of doubt to mess with her. He'd looked serious, but she knew for a fact that he was good at lying to her. He was the one to look her in the eye and tell her he'd call as he rode off across the country without so much as a goodbye or look of guilt glimmering in his eyes. She gave an involuntary shiver.

"Nothing. Just, wondering, I guess."

"So, is he an amazing kisser?"

"I really don't want to talk about Jess," Rory said.

"Why? You said it was a lifetime ago."

"It's just complicated."

"So, it's not over," Stephanie said knowingly.

"No, it is. Very over. The definition of over."

"I don't believe you."

"Why do you even care?"

"I don't. Logan does, but I don't," she informed Rory, as she inspected her manicure.

"Logan doesn't care."

"You think so?"

"He doesn't."

Stephanie sat up, and looked directly at her. "You like Logan?"

"Shouldn't we be getting ready?"

"It's just you and me, tell me."

"I'm getting the impression that we aren't going to be really alone this whole weekend."

"Come on, they didn't bug my bra. Not that Finn didn't try," she giggled. She noted Rory's displeased expression. "I'm kidding. Finn just tries to cop a feel sometimes. Something you don't need to worry about, though."

"Why? Because Logan's looking out for me?"

"Bingo," the other girl winked at her and stood up, moving to her wardrobe.

"You'll find your outfit in your room. We need to be out of here in twenty."

Rory looked at the other girl, still perplexed, but moved to the other bedroom to heed her directions. She carefully shut the door, a bit too modest to be openly changing in front of a girl she barely knew. She took off her jacket, and lay it down next to her purse, whose contents were falling out onto the bed. She saw her cell phone peeking out and picked it up gingerly. She pushed her phone book button, scrolling down until she got to the entry marked 'unfiled'. She saw the 212 area code, making her heart jump a little. Even though she'd put it in her phone herself, seeing the number made her feel as if she were still standing in his presence, listening to his husky voice as he asked her to use it if she needed it. If she needed him.

That was the eternal question, was it not?


	6. Stuck Between Two Worlds

AN: Yeah. It's been too long. I realize this. I'm sorry, but here is the next installment.

Out on the balcony adjacent to the top-floor ballroom, fairly certain her exit hadn't been noticed, Rory once again retrieved her cell phone from her small clutch. Her heart was pounding as her fingers hit the proper buttons until she heard his voice.

"Hello?"

He was groggy, as if she'd pulled him from a deep sleep. It was nearing midnight, and suddenly all she could think was, what kind of rebel badass goes to bed before midnight? She hadn't thought she'd be waking him. Actually, she hadn't really thought at all.

"What is wrong with me?"

"Rory?"

"I mean it, what's wrong with me? Am I too naïve, or am I simply unable to kick back and have what is supposedly innocent college hijinks?"

"Rory, what's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm in Boston. With Logan."

Silence met her response. There was no comeback, based out of either shock or cognition. She couldn't even hear his breath coming over the connection.

"Jess?"

"I'm here," he snapped, wanting only for a few moments of clarity. It was true that he'd given her instruction to call, should she feel endangered with Logan. He still cared for her, no matter how much he would love to pretend he was past it all. Past her, he almost laughed at the thought. It felt more like he was under it all, but at any rate, despite his personal feelings he wanted her to feel free to call upon him if she was in danger. She'd picked a hell of a night to call upon his services, however. He'd been up 72 hours straight, sans the last four. He struggled to pull his thoughts together.

She remained quiet after his biting tone, just as she always had. She knew his tone wasn't meant to hurt her. It was some kind of fucked-up plea of his, for time, for quiet, and collection. But more importantly, for control.

"Are you in trouble?"

"I'm not sure," she bit her lip, wanting to explain the evening's events, but she heard the door that led inside unlatch and swing open into the winter night. The noise of the party seemed to expel a drunken version of Stephanie onto the balcony. She stumbled out and beckoned to Rory.

"Ace, come on! Logan's requesting your presence," she giggled.

"I'll be right there."

Her response satisfied Stephanie, who disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared. Rory sighed and turned her attention back to Jess, who was waiting for the reason behind this call. Rory hadn't called him voluntarily in years, and he didn't like the tone of her voice. She sounded scared, though she was doing her damnedest to cover that fact up.

"Rory, what's happening?"

"I have to go."

"Why did you call?"

"I'm going to be fine."

"Where in Boston?"

"A hotel, it doesn't matter. I'm not technically doing anything illegal, and the night can't last forever, right?"

"Listen to me. The people you're with have a lot of connections. No matter what is going on, it's doubtful you'll get into legal trouble. Just don't take anything from anyone you don't know, or drugs of any kind. No matter what they say it is, anything can be laced with all sorts of things to fuck you up."

"Jess, I'm not going to do drugs."

"Rory, I'm serious. This is the initiation, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will."

Neither spoke for a moment. She knew Logan was waiting for her inside. Every moment spent on the phone with Jess was keeping her in this limbo, between her old life and what might be a new one.

"Do you want me to come up there?"

"No. No. I'm going back in there."

"Alright."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Being there."

With that, she hung up the phone. She slid it safely back into her purse, and seamlessly slipped back into the crowd. Most of the crowd were Harvard Porcellian Club, from what Rory had gathered, they were the archenemies of The Life and Death Brigade. The rivalry had been going on for hundreds of years, since their respective inceptions. Not that she could really recognize them from the people she was there with, except the fact that Logan had held a debriefing beforehand in his suite. The whole ballroom was filled with young people in elegant masquerade costumes. She figured at least those cotillion dance lessons would come in handy here, if they didn't do her much good at the one cotillion she'd attended. The others around her had probably been to dozens, as was society standard. The difference between them had been masked by the fact that she'd had Logan leading her around all night.

It wasn't that the night had been designed to terrify her. Except for the knowledge that they were in enemy territory, she'd been having the time of her life. Logan had this way of making the person in his direct presence feel as if they were the only one on the planet that mattered. Perhaps in the universe. She felt light in his arms, as if she'd been born to be here in this moment. Their secret, their identities, this whole night was their shared experience. She'd seen no actual drugs, weapons or anything else that would be conjured up in her mind's eye when she pictured imminent danger. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she would say all that was happening here tonight was her falling for Logan.

The fact that _that_ might be what was so terrifying hit her hard, just as he arrived by her side, sliding his arm under hers in order to properly guide her.

"Hey, Ace, you disappeared on me," he smiled behind his mask.

"Oh, yeah. Just needed some fresh air."

"Don't be nervous. You're going to be great," he leaned closer to her, and for a split second she thought he might brush his lips across her cheek. She felt her knees give the slightest bit, and he readjusted his weight to be able to catch her should she faint.

"Seriously, are you okay?"

She mustered the best, most convincing smile she could manage before answering him.

"I'm great. Let's do this."

Another of his world famous smiles, and they were suddenly crossing the room. The people became more recognizable to her, body builds and hair colors. She recognized her suitemate for the evening, along with Colin, Finn, and a few others that were here to be inducted like she was. She had no idea how they were going to pull this off, but the boys were insistent that it would work as well as they'd planned. The Porcellian Club evidently put on this party every year, as reward for their own new inductees, all legacies as per the same tradition that the Life and Death Brigade followed. This elaborate set-up, this year to be ruined by a small band of renegades. The thought made her smile, though property damage had never been her forte in the past. She was the little girl who felt bad for trying to lift a penny candy from the store as a two-year-old, and made her mother return her so she could turn herself in. Now, she was going to help in the near destruction of a ballroom. She was one of Logan's minions, just as she had accused Jess of doing. She got angrier, the more she let herself think of what she was knowingly about to do, something that not only didn't sound like much fun, but went against her moral code. She turned to Logan, to voice her protests and insist he let her out of this place, this very second.

He met her lips instead with his, not an open, attentive ear. He pulled her close, kissing her quickly but thoroughly, before whispering into her ear. "Good luck. You know what to do?"

"Stay with Stephanie."

"Right. See you on the other side, Ace."

She nodded, feeling hot all over. There was no getting out of this now. She said a silent prayer that Jess was right, that she wouldn't get into any legal trouble. In ten minutes, she'd be back in the car, on the road to safety. Her part was simple; all she had to do was light a match. Just as the one of the masked guests stepped up on the stage, she felt Stephanie grab her hand and they began to edge their way towards their assigned location.

She heard the glasses clinking, signaling a big speech, and she took a deep breath. Stephanie's handholding had left a small packet of matches in her own palm. Letting out that breath, she felt the initial heat and the small odor of sulfur as the fresh match lit up. She heard the microphone feedback as the speaker; perhaps one of her old Chilton classmates, for all she knew, began to address his club. As she lightly tossed the match into the punchbowl, she heard Logan's words that had met her initial concerns of her part in the job.

'Now, if they don't spike the punch, there won't be a problem, now will there?'

She knew immediately, as the flames burst up from the bowl, that they needed to move fast. It all became a blur in her mind: screams, the smell of too many people in too close proximity, and the smell of singed fabric. There was no time to see who had made it out in time, or who might have been apprehended. She and Stephanie didn't stop running until they were safely in the SUV, panting, and as ashamed as she might be to admit it, relieved mixed with some sort of exhilaration.

She was in.


	7. After Shocks

AN: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing. I love the ambiguity of the Logan/Jess decision, and all of your opinions. I'm not waffling about it, I do know who it'll be in the end. But, that'll be at the end. Anyway, thanks for reading, and here's the next chapter.

He attempted to go back to sleep, but it was pointless now. He thought about calling her back, but knew it'd do no good. What he really wanted to do was go to her, but Boston was a big town. It'd take forever to get there and track her down, and by now Logan probably had her in a corner booth at some exclusive club, celebrating her induction by getting her drunk.

He tried to convince himself that she wasn't his problem. It wasn't his job to protect her from the world—it never had been. Just because he knew her well enough to know she wanted nothing to do with the world in which Logan lived—and she seemed insistent on delving into anyhow—he shouldn't give a fuck.

"_I'll be fine."_

He heard only the uncertainty in her voice. Why did she even call, if she didn't want. . . _No. _He pulled a pillow over his head, as if he could block out his own thoughts. If she were really in trouble, she'd call him back.

Or so he hoped.

'Fuck.'

&&&&

The SUV started almost the second the boys jumped in; Colin and Finn in the front, Logan sliding in next to Rory and Stephanie in the back. No one spoke, and Rory wondered if they shared her basic fears of the police stopping them. She looked at Logan, and he smiled.

"Good work, Ace," he breathed into her ear.

Suddenly she remembered Jess' advice, and his telling her that being arrested wasn't an option for these people. She sat back, not sure how she felt with that kind of power. It didn't seem right, no matter how relieved she might feel that she wouldn't be caught. She tried to push these thoughts from her mind, and wondered when people would begin speaking again. The silence was eerie.

Once they were off of the main routes, Colin flipped on the radio, and the conversations began.

"How long we got, mate? I need to take a piss," Finn asked.

"You know the rules, no stopping for any reason until we cross jurisdiction lines. You can stop as soon as we hit Connecticut."

Rory marveled in how collected they all seemed to be, despite the scene that they'd just fled. She didn't even know how serious a crime they'd committed. Shouldn't you at least know the punishment before you commit the crime? She figured asking how long you're put away for arson wasn't the best thing to pose at the present time.

"So, now what?"

Logan dropped his arm from the seatback over her, down to her shoulders. "Now we go back to the house for our formal rites. Then we party until we can't remember why we started in the first place."

"Oh."

"What's with the long face? You did it. This party is for _you_."

"And six others," Colin pointed out.

"It's just, I have to go home tomorrow, that's all."

"Don't worry about that. You can be good as new by 6am, if you need to be. We have our ways," he winked.

"Great, then let's party," she said with determination.

"Let's party," he nodded.

&&&&

Her head felt like it was inside out. She didn't recognize her surroundings, but her sleeping companion was familiar. She was glad of the t-shirt and underwear she wore—but had no recollection of how she came to be wearing them. The alarm clock next to the bed read 6:52am. She'd promised to meet Lorelai at Luke's for breakfast, but that was easily not until 10am at the earliest. She nudged Logan, who rolled towards her before opening his eyes.

"Morning."

How was it that he looked so damn comfortable all the time? She'd have to ask another time. There were more pertinent questions to be asked at the current time: Where are we? How do I make the beating in my head stop? Are these my underwear?

"Did you enjoy the ceremony?"

That wasn't one of the pertinent questions, but she found herself nodding. She had to admit it'd been awe-inspiring. The entire ballroom of the mansion had been candlelit, a string quartet played all evening, and the champagne. . .Probably the beginning of this horrible feeling she was experiencing. But the night before, the induction ceremony; it'd been magical.

"We do it up classier than the Harvard set. Bet you're glad you chose Yale, huh?"

"How did you know about that?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if to ask her wouldn't she like to know. As it was, she cared more about her hangover than his knowledge of her college selection.

"How's your head?"

"Not so good."

He nodded, picked up the beside phone and dialed 7.

"It's me. Yeah, bring two. Thanks," he hung up. Turning back to her, he searched her still troubled eyes.

"You want to know anything else?"

"Well, since you bring it up, how did _we_ end up _here_?"

"Are you asking if I took advantage of your altered state?"

She blushed, and nodded. He laughed softly, and shook his head. "No. I did change you into an old t-shirt of mine and put you in my bed. I thought you might feel more at ease knowing I didn't let anyone else molest you."

She nodded, looking grateful. He'd been a perfect gentleman. She should have known; he'd never been anything but.

"Though Finn tried, to be honest with you."

She laughed, even though her head hurt.

"And it was hard, Ace. Fiercely hard. Took all of my reserves not to kiss you, with you looking so perfect in my bed. Wearing my clothes," his voice puttered out to a whisper. He trailed the pads of his fingers down her cheek, tracing her jaw line.

"You aren't still drunk, are you?" he leaned in, still smiling at her with that boyish charm of his.

"No," she whispered back.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, slowly, encouraging her to respond. She kissed him back, sitting in this king-sized bed with only a sheet and a t-shirt covering her. She pulled away quickly when someone knocked at the door. A man carrying a tray came in, and set it down on the nightstand. He pulled out part of a newspaper from his back pocket and tossed it at Logan.

"Colin said to get that to 'ya," he informed him. "Morning, love," he addressed Rory, and then left promptly.

She watched the man (butler? He didn't look very butler-esque) leave, then turned to read over Logan's shoulder. It was the second page of the Boston Herald, showing a fire-damaged ballroom—the same they'd fled from the prior night. The article said no one had been hurt, and the fire contained to the main ballroom. The cause of arson believed to be an unknowing person trying to put out a match in an illegally spiked punchbowl. The bookers of the room, an unnamed private group, were not being charged as long as all damages were paid promptly and in full. Hotel officials plan to have the ballroom open for events by May, the start of the society-wedding season.

"Well, well, well," he laughed.

"So, what'll they do now?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll see some lame attempt at retaliation before the end of the next semester," he said casually.

"What kind of retaliation?" she asked, a little concerned.

"Doesn't matter. Finn'll take care of it," he said, putting the paper down, and looking once again at her. "What time do you have to be home?"

"By ten? How far are we from Stars Hollow?"

"Is that where we took you after your grandparent's party?"

She nodded, surprised he wasn't too drunk to remember. "Well, we're right outside of New Haven, so what, I'm guessing forty minutes?"

"Oh, good."

"Drink this," he poured a glass of whatever had been brought in. She made a face as he poured the mystery beverage.

"Don't worry, it works."

She nodded, and took a sip, making another face on the initial aftertaste. "Drink it all, just down it."

She gulped, and as he poured himself a glass, she began to drink as she watched him wash it back in a long chug.

"That was the most disgusting thing ever. What is in that?"

"I have no idea. Time honored recipe though," he said, throwing back the covers. "There's a shower in the bathroom here, you can go first. You'll find towels in the linen closet. Your bag of belongings is also in there."

"Thanks," she said, a little shy about him watching her walk only in her underwear and a t-shirt across the room. Then she remembered he'd said that he had been the one to change her out of the ball gown and into a t-shirt, her modesty was basically lost now anyhow. She slowly sat up, and realized that the pounding was indeed a little softer now. She got to her feet and trudged over to the bathroom.

Logan picked up the discarded newspaper again, and looked over it, shaking his head. He always appreciated a job well done. He heard an unfamiliar ringing, and looked around the room. Her cell phone appeared to have fallen out of her bag when they brought it up. He walked over, and saw the caller's name on her ID bar.

JESS

He opened the phone and answered. "Hello, you've reached Rory's phone."

"Where's Rory?"

"She's in the shower. Can I take a message?"

Jess hung up the phone. Actually, he slammed it closed, and rolled over onto his back. He actually understood the saying 'he saw red.' She couldn't have slept with this guy. This is what he got for his caring and concern? No. He could go back to not giving a fuck. He was done.

"Fuck!" he yelled, as he threw the phone across the room, and pulled the pillow back over his head.


	8. Aversions

AN: Back again. Got some time, and some inspiration. I have the next few chapters mapped out in my head, at least the next two for sure, as far as what I want to include, so hopefully they'll be up sooner. Thanks to all the reviewers!

Her coffee didn't taste right. It was the same Luke's Coffee that she'd been drinking since age 10, but this late morning she sat half listening to Lorelai as she recounted the details of her latest date with said coffee man with a funny aftertaste in her mouth. All she could do was make another pass at the steaming liquid while Lorelai continued on.

Upon seeing her daughter's face contort for the second time after taking a sip of coffee, Lorelai put her fork down and lowered her voice.

"Hey, what gives? Is it the details of what a dream-hunk Luke is, or did someone cruel put salt in your coffee?"

"Will you taste it? It seems off to me," Rory said, handing over her mug.

Lorelai took the mug from her, and took a deep inhalation before taking a sip, as if she were wine tasting. She handed back the mug after she'd sampled it properly.

"Heavenly."

"Are you sure Caesar didn't make it?" she asked, after taking another sip after her mother's approval.

"Luke knows better than that. He can't take all the complaints, the constant nagging of the displeased."

"And that was just from you."

Lorelai ignored Rory's joke as possibilities jumped into her head.

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Burn your tongue?"

"No."

"Are you, I mean is it possible that you're, uh," Lorelai tried to get the words out, and the color drained from her face.

"Oh, God, no!" Rory admonished when she realized what her mother was asking her.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, not having sex will prevent pregnancy, will it not?"

"Well," Lorelai held up her hands.

"God, what is wrong with you?"

"Hey, the coffee tastes fine to me," she defended.

Rory scowled at her mother for a moment and suddenly she wondered if the mystery concoction from this morning had stripped her taste buds. A blush crept up her cheeks, thinking of the last encounter with Logan that morning. She had been gathering her things in order to depart for home. She'd just neatly folded the t-shirt he'd let her borrow as he walked out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist.

"_You're all packed, then?"_

"_Yeah. I should go," she informed him, holding the shirt out to him. He took it with one hand, and then tucked it inside her bag. She gave him a puzzled look._

"_I'll see you soon."_

_She nodded, wondering how that could be, seeing as it was winter break, and he was sure to be off to Fiji or Cabo or somewhere else equally beautiful and warm. He brushed some stray hair from her face and kissed her. Her head completely clear now, his touch felt even better to her. When he pulled back, she just smiled before turning to go._

"All right. Spill."

Her mother's tone brought her back to Earth. Gone were his lips on hers, and back was her insistent mother, holding the off-tasting coffee.

"It's nothing. I just had this stuff earlier, for a hangover. It was disgusting, probably not mixing with the coffee well."

Lorelai's mouth hung open, in surprise. Rory frowned, due to the look of amusement that her mother now had over her face.

"_You_ have a hangover?"

"Had."

"So, rockin' party, last night? Or do we even remember?"

"Mom, please. It was just a party."

"Mmhmm," she took a sip of coffee, relishing it as if to rub it in. "Oh, hey, speaking of last night, I tried to call you. Did you get my message?"

"What? No. No one called."

"I'd check your phone. I called," she pointed to herself.

Rory took out her phone and checked her recent call log. The most recent was an incoming call from Jess. She checked its log. It was this morning at 7:32am, timed at 00:00:15. It didn't make sense.

"Is it on there?"

"Huh? Oh. No."

"Well, I didn't want to shanghai you, but I guess now is better than never. I wanted to give you a head's up, Luke said that Jess might be around the next couple of weeks, on and off."

"What?"

"Well, it is the Christmas season, and Liz lives here now."

"Oh. Right," she nodded. She should have known. In fact, she was surprised it hadn't occurred to her, seeing as she'd been in contact with him recently.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Really."

"O-kay."

Lorelai eyed Rory carefully. She still couldn't gauge her reactions to Jess. Their whole history was so strange and intense. She turned her gaze to Luke, who gave her a smile. His attention flitted to the door as someone opened it. She turned as well, to see Jess, caught dead in his tracks as he looked at Rory. Suddenly his motor skills seemed to return to him, and he pivoted on his heel, then was gone.

That wasn't the strange part of the scene, however. It was normal of their last known encounters for them to flee the other's general vicinity, or at least of the ones that Lorelai had heard of. The oddity here was Rory rushing out of the diner after him.

"What the hell? Isn't it supposed to work the other way around?" Luke asked, now standing at the window next to Lorelai, watching Rory chase after Jess.

"I have no idea."

&&&&

"Jess, stop!"

His pace slowed a little, but he made no moves to stop.

"Jess, please, stop and talk to me!"

She paused, stopping to see if he would turn and face her. He kept going for about ten seconds, and then stopped as well. He turned to face her, there on the opposite side of the town square from Luke's. He could see Luke and Lorelai both watching from the window, but at his recognition of that fact, they turned around quickly. He didn't move closer to her, but he did meet her gaze.

She felt more like he was looking through her, and she suddenly wished she'd grabbed her coat off the chair before bolting out of the diner like that. Her mind must have been taking a vacation, what with her actions lately. She was much more reserved and prepared than this.

"What?"

"Did you call me this morning?"

"Like you don't know."

"What does that mean?"

"Logan didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

He was quiet again, and she moved closer to him. He stepped back when he deemed her too close, he was insistent not to be sucked into her life again.

"Tell me what, Jess? What does Logan have to do with it? All I know is that my phone shows you called this morning."

"It doesn't matter."

"No, it does. What does Logan have to do with this? Did you talk to him?"

"He answered your phone."

"Why?"

"How should I know?"

"Jess, I don't know what all this is about, but why did you call? You must have had a reason."

He looked at her again. Her naivety was truly amazing to him. Did she really not realize how this looked, even if nothing happened? Which he didn't believe at any rate.

"Is it going to be like this again? God, Jess, I don't get it. I really don't. I thought we might be able to actually talk now, but I guess I'm crazy," she paused, waiting for a response. "Fine."

"I was just calling to make sure you were okay."

She looked up at him, tears coming to her eyes at the sound of his voice. It was softer than usual, vulnerable.

"Oh."

"But I guess since you have him answering your phone while you're showering the night off of you, you're just fine."

"It's not like that, I mean, nothing happened."

"Right."

"Jess, come on. Please, can we not do this?"

"Is this what you really want? You want to have your excitement with him and me around to reassure you when the going gets too scary for you?"

The way he made it sound, she felt very small. She wanted to crawl under the gazebo, but mostly she wanted to tell him that it wasn't what he thought. But honestly, it was as he thought. He was speaking nothing but the truth.

"I don't know."

"Well, when you figure out what you want, let me know."

He turned and walked away at that point, leaving her speechless and freezing in the middle of the town. She wanted to go after him again, to explain exactly what happened last night. To tell him what she'd done, and that it was scary but exhilarating. She wanted to tell him how amazing the swearing in ceremony was, and how she'd managed to function despite her fear this morning when she woke up in a strange place. That she was changing. But he already seemed to know that, and he didn't seem too pleased about any of it. He'd been concerned for her. The thought that she'd been keeping it all from her mother entered her thoughts then as well. She shivered, and turned back to the warm diner.


	9. Unearthing Memories

AN: Now, if I told you all what ship this was going to end up being, what fun would that be? The fact that I know is enough, isn't it? Besides, I can't tell you when Rory hasn't quite figured that out in the story yet. Hehe. Glad you're enjoying, even gladder to see proof of that in your reviews. Read on!

Back in the comfort of home, Rory wanted to feel the ease that normally came along with the familiar surroundings. She looked around and took in her normally taken for granted creature comforts. The couch she'd spent millions of hours reading and watching movies on. The kitchen where the oven was used at shoe storage. Her bedroom, where all her dreams had begun. Comfort wasn't wrapping itself around her like she expected, however. The feeling of her entire universe being ripped apart at the seams continued to overwhelm her. She stood in her bedroom, half undressed in front of her wardrobe, when her mother lightly knocked at the bedroom door.

"Rory?"

"Yeah?" she turned, pulling a pajama top on over her head.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course," she encouraged, hoping maybe the comfort would come once her mother, her best friend in the whole world, was a part of the picture.

"So, glad to be home?" she asked, not wanting to jump right into the weird scene that had unfolded in the town square. She didn't want to freak Rory out so she wouldn't discuss it at all.

"Sure," she managed a smile.

"We have some grandparent stuff planned during your break, the annual Christmas party and all, but don't worry, I've got tons of stuff for us to do around here."

"Great."

"Rory," Lorelai began, not liking the one-word answers that her daughter was providing. If she was going to be nice enough to skirt the issue, Rory could at least play along.

"What happened in the town square?"

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that. What is going on? Why were you running after Jess?"

"Well, we've sort of been in contact lately," Rory said, turning away from her mother to put her clothes in the hamper.

"You and Jess?"

"Yes, Jess and I, we've run into each other."

"At Yale?"

"No, not at Yale."

Lorelai looked at her hesitant daughter. She'd gotten the feeling that Rory was up to things that she didn't know about—dare she say that she suspected Rory was keeping these things from her on purpose—but now she was sure of it.

"Rory, where did you bump into Jess?"

"In New York. Some friends and I took a day trip a few weeks ago, and we bumped into him then. He knows one of the guys we were with."

"You went to New York."

"Yeah, you know, to get away from campus, to blow off steam," Rory explained.

Lorelai nodded, trying to forget the fact that her daughter should have told her that she was running off to New York, if nothing else then in case of emergency. But normally Rory would have called with all the fun details of what they did and saw. A part of her somewhere inside began to hurt.

"So, you ran into him and what happened?"

"Nothing. We talked. It seemed like enough time had passed, you know?"

Lorelai nodded. She knew from experience that her daughter was lying to herself—there was never enough time under the bridge for your first love to dissipate to a casual friend. She knew if she brought this up, Rory would counter that Dean was her first love, and she did not want to open that can of worms. Jess had been different, and Lorelai knew it. It was why she'd been so wary of Rory dating him in the first place. Their energy wasn't that of puppy love. It was real, frustrated, and sexual. It had literally scared her out of sleep some nights. Even though it'd been Dean to take her virginity, those feelings had been awakened by Jess, and they both knew it.

"Anyway, I didn't expect him to run away from me this morning. I thought it'd be okay," she bit her lip, and traced the pattern of her comforter with her forefinger.

"Oh," Lorelai let out, trying to let her vent all her feelings on the topic. When she didn't continue talking, she thought maybe it was her turn again. "Well, I'm sorry for the fact that Luke and I being together sort of forces the issue," she offered.

"No, it's like you said, his mom lives here now, it's not your fault," Rory smiled at her mom.

"Well, still, I'm sorry it's rough for you," she shrugged, putting her hand on Rory's knee. She stood up to leave, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Promise me one thing?"

"Sure, Mom."

"Feel free to come to me, anytime you need to. You know you can still talk to me about anything, you never get to old to do that, okay?"

Rory smiled at her mom, and nodded. She watched sadly as she left her room. She knew her mom wanted to be apart of her life, but she also knew that she wouldn't approve of any of her current outings with the Life and Death Brigade. The fact that it was a society-driven legacy club would put her over the roof. The fact that they did illegal things for sport was a whole other level of disappointment that she didn't want to face. She wanted to figure this out on her own.

And she would, she decided. She'd try to find Jess again tomorrow and figure it all out. Or at least she hoped so. Right now she needed a good nap. She rifled through her bag, unpacking clothes, and came across the t-shirt that Logan had put in her bag. She took off her current top, and slid it on. It smelled of him, she found as she pressed it to her face before unfurling it and sliding it on over her head. It was loose on her, and came halfway down her thighs. She grabbed her current novel and jumped up onto her bed again. She pulled the covers up over her, arranged the pillows in the perfect back-molding position, and opened the book to where she last left off.

He looked in her window, to see her passed out, with a book still on her chest. He hesitated before trying the window out of habit. She looked so relaxed, so in place. He'd only seen and heard from her during such uncharacteristic moments lately. Earlier today, seeing her again in the diner with her mother—it freaked him out. Not because it wasn't usual, or he wasn't expecting it. It was like walking into another time. A time when they were together, and it was so good that every part of him ached sometimes. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, and wondered what her dreams were of. Getting colder, and knowing running into Lorelai by using the front door wasn't an option, he gently ran his hands along the edge of the window and gave it a test lift. It gave a bit, and he eased it up further, just enough for him to climb into the opening and closed it again before the cold air roused her.

He took a good look around. It looked the same as when he'd first entered it, a little light on books, as most had made the journey to Yale with her. All her stuffed animals had stayed, it seemed. He saw the little bear she'd won at the winter carnival two years ago. He saw the big stuffed chicken, the one stuffed animal he just couldn't figure out the joke to. Knowing the women in this house, however, there had to be a story (and a punch line) to go with it.

He knelt by her bed, and took the book gently out of her hands. He couldn't decide now if he had the will to wake her. He could just make her more comfortable and leave, and she'd be none the wiser. She would just figure her mother had been in. He heard a door open and close, and his heart skipped a beat. He glanced out the window to see Lorelai getting into her Jeep, and he let out a sigh of relief. He moved across the room, and sat in the armchair. His head fell into his hands, and tried to collect himself.

"Jess?"

His head snapped up. She was awake, and looking at him through sleepy and confused eyes. He nodded.

"It's just me."

"What are you doing? Here I mean, in my bedroom."

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier."

"Oh."

He looked at her, and she pulled her knees up to her chest. She wasn't sure what to say. In all honesty, after their last conversation, she hadn't planned on seeing him much without having to go after him.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to get out of here later."

"Get out of here?"

"I was going to New York, I can't take Lizzie too much," he said, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

"Lizzie?"

"My mom."

"Oh, right. Well, I guess that's fine," she managed uncertainly. She wanted to talk to him, and this was one way of ensuring getting to do so.

"I'll come by in an hour, is that okay?"

"Uh, sure. I just need to tell Mom."

"She just left."

"Oh," was her only response. She looked completely bewildered. He figured he might give her some better explanation. She liked order, and he couldn't imagine that no matter how much had changed in her life, that particular desire would fade.

"We'll just stay the night. I have plenty of room at my apartment," he began, "And there are some places I'd like to show you."

She sat there, in Logan's t-shirt, facing Jess. Jess, who was the one she'd wanted it to work with so desperately, and felt no control around. He let her get away with nothing, holding her to standards that she herself wasn't aware that she was capable of. She'd failed to do the same for him. For a time, she'd tried, but she became so terrified of driving him away. Now the boy that had fled was in her bedroom, a man asking her to come see his life.

"Just, wait in the front room. Give me ten minutes?"

He nodded, and stood up from the chair. He looked at her once more, like he wanted to say something, but instead he opened her bedroom door and disappeared through it. She took a deep breath. She didn't want to think about this, she just wanted to go and be with him. Finally he'd made her an offer she couldn't refuse. He wasn't asking her to give up her whole life, just a night. He was able to look out for them both, and that fact made her smile. They were no longer the two people that had failed at this so terrifically two years ago. She repacked her bag, and threw in a couple of books for the car ride. She brushed her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, and changed her clothes. She left her discarded pajamas on her bed, and moved out to the bathroom to grab her toothbrush. When she made it out to the hallway to leave her mother a note, she saw Jess standing in front of the mantel, looking at pictures her mother always kept on display of the two of them. It'd been expanded recently, to pictures of Lorelai and Luke, some of Sookie and Davey. Their little family was growing that was for sure. She watched him pick up a picture of her when she was very young, her first day of school. She was in a dress that Lorelai had made, and she looked so proud of herself, holding up her book bag to the camera.

"I'm all set," she said, interrupting his gaze.

He put the picture down carefully and turned to her. He nodded, and moved across the room. "I was just looking at your mom's pictures."

"Yeah, she loves to document every moment. Did you like my first day of school?"

"Is that what that was?"

"Yeah. I had her up at 5am, rearing to go."

He smiled, and nodded. "Must be nice, to have all those memories," he said, turning to look at the mantle again.

"Your mom doesn't have a Jess wall?" she giggled.

"No," he shook his head, scoffing.

"It's not a crazy question," she said gently.

"I suppose," he shrugged, not giving any further information. "Do you still have any of us?"

"What?"

"You had pictures of us," he began again.

"Oh, yeah. I still have them," she nodded.

"Where are they?"

"Oh, they're in a box," she blushed. "It's not as bad as it sounds, it's not like I buried them or anything. Mom creates these boyfriend boxes, afterwards, you dump all the stuff that reminds you of that person in a box, to put it out of sight so you can get over it."

"Huh."

She wondered what he was thinking. She'd never told any of her exes that their memories had been confined to a box underneath old blankets and coats. "Do you want to see it?"

Her question surprised him. What was the point of doing the damn box if you could get it out and rifle through it with the offending person that caused you to have to box up your belongings? He wanted to ask her until it hit him that perhaps that was precisely the reason to box those things up. To have all in one space, so at a later date you could get it all out and remember it fondly. He found himself nodding, and following her down the hall to the coat closet. She gently lifted off several bulky blankets, which she handed off to him. He laid them on the couch, and rejoined her as she began trying to lift a large box that read "JESS" in black Sharpie marker along one side.

"It's kinda heavy," she said, embarrassed, and he moved in front of her to lift it out. He noticed a smaller box, labeled "DEAN", and smiled to himself that his was larger, though they'd gone out a much shorter time. She hadn't been kidding, it was really heavy. He hoisted it up and carried it down the hall to her bedroom. He tried to imagine her packing it up after his departure. He wondered how long she waited to do it—they hadn't had much of a goodbye until her graduation. Maybe she packed it while packing for Europe. He still wanted to hear about that trip, and all the amazing things she'd seen.

She knelt on her bed, and he did the same, as she gingerly unfolded the top of the box. He felt a sort of reverence, as if it were a time capsule. He wondered what made her think of him, and what she'd deemed important to keep. He also wondered if she'd weighted it down with bricks, but that was beside the point.

"Have you looked in this?"

"Just once, I needed something out of it for school last year."

He nodded, not quite sure what to make of that comment. Until she lifted out said item. It was a copy of Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. He smiled, and nodded. He liked the fact that Hemingway reminded her of him.

"Did you at least enjoy it?" he joked.

She gave him a look, narrowing her eyes a little. "That's not the point, here."

"Huh," he said in surprise.

She continued to pull out book after book, and he looked in amazement. He had no idea that most of her books had been quarantined because of him. He had honestly figured they were at Yale.

"This is a waste," he said finally.

"What is?"

"All these books, it's like unearthing Atlantis's library."

She smiled at him, and looked at the collection that was laying on her bed. He was right, but the whole point was to get anything that reminded her strongly of him out of sight, which she told him.

He nodded, keeping the amazed 'Wow' in to himself. He picked up the copy of Howl, the book he'd borrowed on their first meeting, and concert tickets fell out. They were from the Distillers concert he'd taken her to. He looked back at her stuffed animals, and pointed at the bear.

"How come the bear isn't in here?"

"Huh?"

"The bear. He doesn't remind you of me?" he asked, feeling a bit stupid for even asking a question like that.

"Oh, well," she said, picking up the bear. "He was."

He looked at her questioningly. "I was having trouble sleeping, and so I got him out."

"You slept with him?"

She nodded, feeling silly and childish. "It's stupid, I know."

"No, it's not," he assured her and looked back at the box. "I'm sorry I ruined all your belongings for you," he said, as she pulled out a belt, a pair of dress shoes, and a few other articles of clothing, before finally unearthing some picture frames that indeed held the visual memories that he'd referred to initially. Her mom had taken some of them, without their knowledge. Those were times when he wondered if she were finally coming around to liking him. There were a few of them passed out on the Gilmore couch, at the end of a movie night. They almost always fell asleep by then end. There were a couple that she'd taken herself, holding out the camera, both of them laughing for whatever reason. The last was of him kissing her cheek she snapped the shutter.

"Oh, well, they aren't ruined," she said emphatically. "They're safe."

He nodded, and suddenly the reality of what they were doing, this exhumation of their relationship, got to him. He noticed there was no jewelry—he'd never given her any. In fact, so far nothing she'd pulled out had been anything he gave her, as he hadn't done that in their relationship. Or any relationship, for that matter. Just books she'd owned, and clothes she'd had before him. Now she pulled out a handful of CDs.

"Hey, isn't that mine?" he said, taking a Shagg's CD out of her hand.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she scrunched up her nose in apology. "Take it," she offered.

"No, keep it. It's been in the box this long," he said, rifling through the other titles in the 'Jess Box' collection. All good stuff. Stuff he'd think of her when he heard it as well.

"That's it," she said, looking at the contents, on her bed, moving the box to the floor. He sat on the bed with her, amidst the items she'd saved.

"Well, we certainly had good taste together," he joked. She giggled at his comment, and agreed.

"Yeah, we did." She couldn't say she hadn't thought about the items in the box before now. She'd only let herself venture into it twice—at the advice of her mother she'd put the pictures at the bottom so as not to be tempted. Besides, all she had to do to see him was close her eyes. He was always just right there. Showing him her memories of him left her feeling a bit naked, but he seemed to be feeling as uneasy as she was.

He looked over the contents of the box again, still amazed at how much she'd packed away to avoid thinking of him, before glancing at his watch, and noticed the time. They needed to hit the road now to avoid the worst of the traffic into Manhattan. She noticed him checking his watch.

"We need to get going?"

"Yeah. You sure you want to come?" he asked, wondering if their trip down memory lane had weirded her out. He couldn't say he wasn't unsettled by it. Nowhere in the realm of his imagination could he have conjured up this happening.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Let me help, get it all back in," he said, grabbing a handful of books.

"No, I'll do it, later," she said, putting her hand on top of his to stop him. He looked into her eyes, and gently placed the books back down on the bed.

"All right," he said softly. "Let's go."

They left the room, the remnants of what was still on her bed. She grabbed her duffel bag, made sure the note to her mother was weighed down by a pen and left the house behind him.


	10. Bright Lights, Big City

AN: Well, to those of you who are worried that you're reading the wrong ship: I apologize. I certainly hope I'm not traumatizing you, lol, but I do appreciate you reading anyhow. Good luck to you, I guess. Jess is in this chapter, but Logan is coming back. I seem to alternate them, I know. But it is all building together, I promise.

The car ride had been calming. He drove, maneuvering skillfully through increasingly heavy traffic. It was like a game of Tetris, and it let him clear his mind of all else. She in turn watched other cars, studied license plates, and for once got to observe her where-abouts during the whole trip. Neither spoke, but neither was feeling the need to. He at long last pulled the car into a parking garage, cut the ignition, and turned to her. She still held tight to her duffel bag that sat in her lap.

"Where are we?"

"My apartment building. We should drop your bag."

She nodded, and followed him up to his apartment. He turned several locks, and she wondered how safe the neighborhood was, more with each turn his wrist made. She decided it seemed childish to ask, so she simply followed him inside.

Having not known what to expect, she looked around the apartment with unbiased eyes. The décor was scarce; no picture or plants, and minimal furniture. It had a kitchenette, small living room, and a hallway with three adjoining doors.

"You can toss your stuff in my room," he suggested. When at first she didn't move, he continued, "I'll sleep out here tonight."

"On what?" she raised an eyebrow, challenging his last statement.

"I'll manage."

"Jess," she sighed.

"You're getting the bed, this isn't a discussion."

She nodded, "Which door?"

"On the right."

She moved wordlessly to the bedroom door, and gasped upon opening it. Bookshelves lined the room on all four sides. There was a small gap at the window and again at the closet door, but otherwise it was floor to ceiling books and CDs. The bed was pulled into the middle of the room, and she guessed he'd crammed all his other personal effects into the closet. He'd obviously constructed the bookshelves, out of boards and blocks, but they were perfect. They made this space his. She opened the closet to see he'd built a storage unit into it, in order to hold more stuff efficiently. She smiled, remembering how good he'd always been with his hands.

He decided to check in on her after she didn't reemerge some time later, only to find her in the corner of his room, seated on the floor running her fingers slowly over the spines.

"You aren't planning on stealing anything are you?"

"Maybe."

"So, it's not much, but," he scratched the back of his head, looking around the room himself, as if he'd never truly looked at it before.

"Oh, Jess, it's perfect," she said, her voice full of sincerity.

He had no words for that, he just nodded.

"We should go," he said, turning and walking into the main room.

&&&&

Now out on the main street in front of his building, she buttoned up her coat the rest of the way as she could literally feel the temperature dropping. They ducked into the subway, and she was glad to be out of the wind. As they waited, he leaned up against a column, and she studied his face. It'd been so long since she used to try to memorize every shape on it: the curve of his mouth, the bridge of his nose, his thick eyelashes. She used to tell him he had good eyebrows, to which he always shook his head, but had to smile.

"What?" he could feel her eyes on him. He always could.

"What made you change your mind?"

"About what?"

"Me."

"I didn't."

"But, you said," she began, confused.

"Not now, Rory. Later, I promise."

She nodded, as their train was arriving. He put his hand on the small of her back, a small gesture that didn't go unnoticed by either, and they pressed into the full car. It was standing room only. She held onto a handrail, as did he, and he also kept his other hand in the warm spot it'd created in the small of her back. She found herself wanting to fall into him, but forced herself to stand up as straight as possible, holding her composure as well as her posture.

&&&&

Once again out on the ever-colder streets, she followed him almost three blocks before they stopped abruptly. He opened a door for her that simply read, 'Hot Coffee.' She stepped in to hear a majority of the small crowd yell.

"SHUT THE DAMN DOOR!"

"Whaddya' want?" A middle-aged professional waitress barked at her form behind the counter.

"Coffee, black," Rory answered without hesitation, "Large."

"Good, 'cause we don't serve none of that foofey chai, white raspberry, mochachino shit."

Rory smiled, and Jess piped up beside her. "Make it two, to go."

"You got it, Sweets," she winked at him. Rory tried to swallow her laughter as the waitress, whose nametag read 'Ms. Wanda' on it, poured two large regular coffees into to-go cups.

"$1.85," she again barked.

Ms. Wanda handed over the goods as Jess handed her $2. Once again his hand was on Rory's back, leading her out the door. Back on the street, she took a sip of her coffee and smiled as she looked at him while they walked down the next block.

"Good coffee?"

"Ms. Wanda winked at you, 'Sweets'," she drawled, then erupted into giggles again.

"She winks at everyone. To unnerve them."

"I'd get some mace, if I were you."

"Hey, she liked you."

"How do you know?"

"She didn't make you cry."

"Yeah, well, I still contend she wanted a piece of you," Rory couldn't help herself.

"Drink your coffee."

She giggled until the fit naturally subsided, as they turned the corner again. It was nearly 10pm now, and the city looked amazing, all lit up. She'd never seen it like this, from this vantage point deep in the city. They were in the heart of it all. She felt miniscule and larger than life all at the same moment.

"Come on, we're almost there," he said, urging her on to make the last bit of the trip.

"Where? Jess," she protested until she looked up again upon his sudden stop. They were now standing in front of the Times building. He reached for the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Going in," he said slowly.

"What?"

"This is what I wanted to show you."

Still confused, but now very intrigued, she followed him in. They walked past a mostly empty reception area, going down into a main hallway. He stopped behind a woman who was mopping the floors, and tapped her on the shoulder. Taking out her headphones, she smiled and threw her arms around him, her mop falling forgotten to the ground.

"Jessie!"

"Is tonight a good night?" he asked, not seeming to mind her childish nickname for him.

"For you, always!" she exclaimed with a thick New York accent. "This the girl?"

"Sharon, this is Rory Gilmore. Rory, Sharon Delfino."

"Nice to meet you," Rory extended a hand to the older woman.

Sharon looked to Jess in an impressed fashion, and grabbed Rory's hand in return. "You too, Hun. Come on, kids, this way."

Rory looked to Jess, who nodded, and mouthed 'Go.' They followed Sharon up a few floors, past the stragglers still working in random offices.

"Here it is, Hun. Take your time, and be sure to say goodbye to me before you go," she instructed Jess before leaving them.

"Is this?"

"The central newsroom," he affirmed.

"Wow," she breathed. It was almost peaceful at this time of night, half-darkened due to the fact that it was only home to what looked like the true workaholics left over at 10pm and beyond. Not as scary or intimidating as it'd be by 7am tomorrow morning, that was for sure.

"How did—is it really okay for us to be here?"

He nodded. "Sharon's the mother of one of my oldest friends."

"Do I get to meet him, too?"

"Uh, you can't."

She looked back at him, taking a break from her awe. She knew immediately from this tone what was coming next.

"He died five years ago, cancer."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he smiled to assure her. "Sharon's worked here 20 years, and she loves to help me out. Almost as much as she loves to feed me."

"You brought me here just to show me this?"

He shook his head and pulled a folded manila envelope out of his jacket pocket. He handed it over to her, and she quickly unfolded it to pull out the contents.

"This is an application for the summer internship."

"I know."

"It's not due for two months."

"So, yours will be early and on the desk of the managing editor, not lost by flunkies."

"Careful, I want to be one of those flunkies," she pointed the envelop at him menacingly.

"And now, you can check off that box that asks if you know anyone who works here," he added.

She smiled. "Got a pen?"

They sat at empty desks, her writing furiously, him reading. She was in amazement—she'd planned on trying for this, but being here made it much more tangible in her mind. She was especially glad of the coffee now, as it was nearly 1am when she laid the finished application on the appropriate in-box.

&&&&

Once back at the apartment, he locked up while she got ready for bed. She came into the bedroom to find him rifling around in his closet.

"I'll just be a sec," he promised.

"Stay, and talk. Please?"

"It's 2:30," he reminded.

"I know."

He looked at her, knowing he would stay even before she could form the puppy dog eyes. She wanted to talk, and make it better. He knew that. And he wished it were possible, but wasn't sure he believed it was. Doing things like tonight for her were one thing, but their honesty-turned screaming matches were another. They wore on him like nothing else ever had. Reluctantly, he sat on the bed and waited.

"What you did was amazing," she paused, "But earlier you were so pissed at me."

"I know."

"I don't get it."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

She searched his face, as if she'd find an answer to his question there. She knew he didn't just mean the internship. It was like he could see into her, know all the things that had been mulling and churning inside of her. She had no idea how he could do all this, or why he wanted to—something inside of her began to ache.

"Nothing makes sense anymore."

She sounded so distant, so lost. He was afraid to touch her right now; it felt like lifetimes had passed since he'd been able to really touch her like he wanted to. She scooted closer to him, and reached out to wrap her arms around his neck. She clung to him for support, and the comfort that only he provided her. With her now climbed into his lap, his instincts took over. He was thankful to turn his conscious mind off, as he held her to him and stroked her hair.


	11. Come Down

AN: It's me. Back again. I've been waiting for this chapter, it contains what was the original thought in my mind for the whole concept. . . Hope you enjoy!

It'd been four days since Rory had come home, with no explanation other than what her note had said, 'Gone to New York with Jess. Be back tomorrow.' It was exactly what had happened, sans details. The chill in the conversations between Rory and Lorelai weren't of Emily and Lorelai proportions—but the formality and politeness were unsettling still. Lorelai waited it out, hoping Rory would fill her in. Rory hoped her mother would continue not to ask her questions she had no answers for. Both remained uneasy.

It was now Friday afternoon, and Rory was reading on the couch, enjoying the quiet of an empty house. It was a blessing that she had so rarely known in her short life. She pretended to be reading, for whom she wasn't sure—herself maybe. In all reality, she hadn't turned the page in forty-five minutes. Her thoughts drifted to what her summer would be like if she got the internship at the Times. If she'd see Jess while she was there. How much more complicated it would be.

"Rory?"

"In here," she said, not turning to greet her mother. Doing nothing to encourage the questions she knew it must have been killing her mother not to ask.

"You remember we have the Christmas party tonight at the grandparents?" she stopped by the arm of the couch.

"Yeah. I should get ready."

"Me too. Luke'll be here in an hour," she added.

"Oh, Luke's coming?"

"Emily insisted," Lorelai said, her voice dripping with dread.

Rory looked up at her mother, and gave her an encouraging smile. "He doesn't want to come?"

"Hon, I don't even want to go."

"It won't be that bad. Remember the apple tarts," she tried.

"Says the golden child that they love. Remember, man invasion in one hour!" she said, turning to head up the stairs to her room.

Rory watched her go. It wasn't that it was killing her not to share the intimate details of the last few weeks. It was killing her how effortless the transition had been. Sighing, she placed her book down without marking the page—she'd been staring at page 98 for the better part of the last hour. She'd remember that until this evening, when she could slip under the comforting covers of her bed and resume the staring.

&&&&

"You okay, Luke?" Rory asked as they made their way up the driveway.

"A valet just took my truck. At a private residence," he said in shock.

"Is he okay?" she asked her mother.

"He'll be fine. He's still adjusting to the intricacies of what it takes to deal with the Joneses."

"Who are the Joneses?" he asked, turning to her, worried that there were people that her parents would expect her to know.

"Oh my God. Let's go. There just isn't enough time in the world to explain it all," she said, reaching out to ring the doorbell.

Rory smiled and kissed her grandmother's cheek as they were let into the full crowd. The elder Gilmore's parties never were small scale—in preparations or guest lists. No wonder Luke felt uncomfortable and out of sorts. Luke was not a large-scale guy. She knew that was one of the things that Lorelai loved about him. He was the antithesis of what she ran from. Rory herself always felt more at ease in the slower paced, cozy town of Stars Hollow than she had in Hartford. She wondered if there were ever a time her grandparents ever yearned for a simpler life than what they had. She guessed not, as they seemed to revel in the grandeur of their life. They seemed to fit.

And what's more, they told her constantly, both in word and action, that she fit too.

She just wasn't sure herself.

&&&&

They'd been there for hours. She couldn't check the time, as she didn't have a dress watch fancy enough to wear with her current ensemble. She seemed stuck in polite conversation hell, and couldn't even see her mother or Luke. She wondered if her mother had used her tried and true exit route. She smiled to herself as she pictured Luke reaction at seeing Lorelai's old room—and trying to shimmy down the trellis.

She slipped unnoticed, at least by her grandparents, into the library. It was the one room in the house that made her feel in her own skin. There was a clock, showing that she had in fact been there way too long. It was nearly ten o'clock. She began to wonder if her mother would ditch her. They hadn't exactly been in sync all week. She skimmed the shelves, looking to see if her grandfather had added anything to peak her interest since her last visit. She tried to remember the last time she was in here, but couldn't for some reason. Suddenly it seemed an eternity.

"I knew I'd find you in here."

She turned, to see Logan leaning in the doorway. He was smiling, his hands shoved in his pockets. She gave a wistful smile and shrugged.

"Needed some quiet."

He nodded and moved far enough into the room so that he could close the door, ensuring their privacy. He moved over to her, but looked past her, to the books that she'd just been eyeing herself.

"Impressive."

"Yes, it is."

"Not the best collection I've seen, but a good start," he mused.

She said nothing; he'd made his point. He came from the life of luxury that exceeded even the glimpse that she'd been given in her life. She wasn't sure if he was playing with her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited."

"You've never been before," she eyed him for a reaction.

"You're sure about that?" he challenged.

She didn't have an answer for him. It seemed to be a developing habit of hers. He seemed to take her silence as some sort of invitation and moved in closer, putting a hand on her satin-encased waist.

"Did you get home in time?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"I need my car," she managed, as she watched him look over her.

"I brought it tonight," he said disinterestedly, as his eyes came back up her body and seemed to fall into hers.

"Oh."

"Do you want to dance?"

"Here?"

"No," he smiled at her naïve retort. "Out there."

"Right," she giggled at herself. "Out there."

Neither made a move towards the door, however. His hand still on her waist, as if at the ready to prevent her from running away. What he didn't know was that he was the first boy she'd ever not run from.

Or maybe he did know it. She could never tell.

He leaned in, and she anticipated his lips on hers. She hadn't felt it since Monday morning. He surprised her, kissing her cheek at first instead. A sudden panic flew over her. He hadn't been the last man to kiss her, and she was sure in the instant that he kissed her cheek that he must have known.

_Jess held her, as she cried for all the times she hadn't let herself in the past. She cried, feeling safe in his arms, for things that had everything and nothing to do with him. She felt his strong arms around her, letting her be weightless in his lap. She felt his fingers as he moved first his palm over her scalp, then tangled his fingers into her hair and ran them down to the ends. She felt the heat from his lips as he pressed them into her scalp. She lifted her head, eyes blurred from still falling tears, and he kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and reached out again for him, her lips finding his at last. She kissed him roughly, not gently as he'd been with her thus far. She wanted to feel him, to know he was real, not just another dream that she would be forced to forget by her rational mind. She put her hands on either side of his face, angling his head to delve deeper into him._

She looked at him, allowing her hair to fall across her face. He moved it back behind her ear and pulled away. He took her hand in his and made his way to the door, moving them slowly back out into the throng of people. Her usual anxiety of fitting in, the fear of the disdainful looks she felt she was receiving all fell away while on his arm. She noted the looks of approval she was collecting from around the room. She even found herself looking into the faces of those she'd normally not meet eyes with, seeing the gleam of acceptance wherever she looked.

Until she met her mother's gaze. Lorelai was instantly troubled, and rightly so. Here was her daughter in the arms of a man she'd seen fleetingly as Rory was promptly dropped off in her lawn, drunk and boyfriendless, a few months prior. She'd never told her mother so much as his name, but here she was, pressed as far into him as she could get as he moved her gracefully around the room. He whispered in her ear, and caused her to blush. She looked away from her mother quickly, not able to take the guilt it caused her.

She wanted to tell Logan about her trip to New York, so her mother's inevitable outburst wasn't the first place he heard about it, but the words didn't come. Instead, she came to a near standstill as he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. He continued to dance, swaying softly back and forth while his lips caressed hers.

She couldn't breathe. Logan's lips, Jess' hands, and her mother's eyes seemed to tangle in her brain. She couldn't take it anymore. She pulled back from Logan suddenly, and he could see the crazed panic in her eyes.

"Hey, Ace, what's wrong?"

"I need to go," she said, not offering any explanation.

"Wait," he said, trying to keep just a step behind her, but having to work at it.

At the instant realization of the chase, Lorelai turned as well, slipping out at a short length behind the two. She could hear this unknown man calling after her daughter, and Rory doing what she often did in times of emotional overload—she ran.

"Rory, wait!"

"Logan, please," she said, stopping just before the large wooden door.

"What's wrong? You were fine, just a moment ago."

"I don't know, so much, I feel like I can't wrap my head around my thoughts."

"Is it last weekend?"

"No, not completely," she said truthfully, knowing he wasn't following her train of thought. He was usually uncanny in his ability to know her thoughts before she did.

"Because you and I," he tried again, but she held her hand up to his lips, silencing him.

"It's not you. I just need some time alone right now."

He nodded, not understanding, but not wanting to push her. "Your keys," he pulled them out of his inner jacket pocket and held them out to her.

She wrapped her slender fingers around the keys, and he wrapped his hand around hers, easily encasing her smaller hand in his. Her eyes moved from their hands to his face, and for a moment she wanted to take him with her. In his eyes she saw that he'd understand what she was feeling, he would take her away somewhere amazing that would make her whole world feel new again.

But instead, she slipped her hand out of his and opened the door, disappearing into the night.

&&&&

Rory was in bed by the time Luke left Lorelai on her porch. He'd offered to stay, to be there for her after her intervention with Rory. She knew she looked exhausted and upset—she'd never been more of either. She kissed him lightly on the lips, trying to reassure him that her sanity would be as present as it ever had been come morning. She'd come to the diner for breakfast. Hopefully with Rory.

Rory may have appeared asleep to the untrained eye, but Lorelai fell for none of her tricks. Rory had always let her in too far to pull one over on her. She liked that she tried, especially when she was little—it showed her normal progression as an independent little person. Lorelai had always liked the idea that Rory would grow to be her own person.

Now she wasn't so glad of that suddenly.

"Rory, honey, please talk to me," she said in a soft voice, not even bothering to turn a light on. She didn't want to be angry, she just wanted to help her daughter.

She heard a deep sigh, and Rory turned over to face her mother. Her eyes, it was easy even to see in the dark, had been emitting tears for quite some time.

"I don't know where to begin," came the hesitant response.

Lorelai made no haste in moving next to her daughter on the bed, and rubbing her arm.

"The beginning. Or the end. What happened at the party? Who was that guy?"

"Logan."

"And Logan would be?"

"There are no words."

Lorelai was speechless at her daughter's inadequate but all too telling description. Her choice of words spoke volumes, and she immediately knew that they were in for a long night, assuming Rory was up to it. She hoped she was herself.

"Alright. Then, try talking about New York. Your note said you went with Jess," she said calmly.

"Yeah. He showed up, and asked me to come with him."

"What'd you do there?"

"Filled out an application, at the Times."

"What?"

"He knew someone that works there, he got me in the newsroom—it was amazing, Mom. I was in shock."

"Then what?"

"Then I spent the night at his apartment. He brought me home the next day."

"And you slept?"

"In his room."

"With him?"

"Not like that. But yes."

Lorelai nodded. She couldn't imagine having the past they shared and them in a shared bed not including some touching. And her connection to Logan didn't seem completely innocent either.

"So, is there a boyfriend here? Am I missing something?"

"I ran into Jess with Logan. Logan was my inside source to a secret society at Yale."

"Oh, for that piece you wrote a while ago," Lorelai finally understood something. It was encouraging, and she waited patiently for more. For more to fill in the gaps that included coming home to a note and the contents of the Jess box all over her bed—that disappeared again after Rory's return—and whatever it was that had kept her so silent the past two months.

"Yeah, but he took me to events, and before I knew it, I was being initiated. It turns out that I was a legacy," she looked down.

"Oh."

"Yeah. And he knew it, and he made it so much easier for me, making me feel like I belonged in that life, with those people. After the initiation, he kept an eye on me, and we ended up kissing."

Her mother said nothing, so she continued. "But when I ran into Jess, he told me to stay away from Logan. That I didn't want to be apart of that world, but if I insisted on trying it out, to call him if I needed him."

'Go Jess,' Lorelai surprised even herself in her thoughts, but said nothing.

"He knew Logan, through a random marriage of their relatives, and he seemed so concerned for me. I've been trying to sort out what is going on, with them, and the secret society, and where I belong—I sort of fell apart with Jess. I felt like I could, and he held me and we ended up in his bed together, kissing, and God, he held me all night long."

Tears were fresh in her eyes, and now she looked to her mother for a reaction.

"Why haven't you told me any of this?"

"I didn't think you'd approve."

"Of?"

"Logan, the limos and the champagne, the society life, everything."

"And Jess?"

"I know you don't like him," she sighed.

"It's not that I don't like him, kid, or that I don't like you trying out the flip side," she chose her words carefully, glad of the bridge of conversation Rory had offered. "I'm just surprised, I guess is all."

"I know you hated that world."

"I didn't know you wanted it."

"I don't know if I do. With Logan, it's different though. I don't feel unworthy of it."

"Aw, Honey, you were never unworthy of it. You were bred for it. Or you would have been if you'd been planned for," she cringed.

"But it's how I felt. Always. But Logan, it's like he knows more about me than I do in that way. He makes me carry myself differently, without even saying a word."

Lorelai knew exactly how she felt. She'd always felt like she was wearing someone else's skin, clothes, life—except when she'd been with Christopher. When she was with him, she'd felt whole and accepted—like she could take over the world. It was probably why they'd started having sex so soon, she never could get enough of him.

"And with Jess?"

"Jess is this unsafe stability, I ache for him sometimes. Literally ache. And I feel like I'm supposed to bottle all that up. But when I'm near him, he's just all I can see. I feel alive."

She knew this struggle her baby was putting herself through. As much as she wished she could make it go away quickly, she knew better.

"I can't make these decisions for you, kid," she said softly.

"I know. You think I'm crazy," she pushed her head further into her pillow.

"You don't want to know what I think."

"Yeah, I do."

She looked up again, her innocence still amazingly intact despite all the forces that should have ripped it to shreds over the years.

"I think that Logan is your Christopher."

It was a simple statement that shook her to the core. All her feelings for her father, the good and the bad, were balled up in a huge mass that seemed to be lodged in her throat at that moment. She felt dizzy, though lying down.

"So, what, Jess is my Luke?"

"Oh, God, I hope not," Lorelai mumbled under her breath, but knew in her heart that she was wrong. Perhaps she's always been wrong about him. Deep, deep down.

Rory's worried look caused her to say what she truly felt. "Yeah, kid. Yes."

Rory was silent, too much already having been in her mind, and now these revelations were rendering her mute. She let the tears fall, no sobs joining them. Her mother curled up next to her, watching her until she fell asleep.


	12. My Little Corner of the World

AN: Wow. The response to this story gets more and more interesting for me. I thank all of you who have reviewed, for your thoughts and opinions. It's all great fun for me to take in. I will say that more will be explained, and I'm not done with either Logan or Jess.AndI can't give the ending away ('cause what fun would that be?). Happy reading!

"Hello?"

"It's me. What the hell are you up to?"

"Well, your concern for me as sweet as it is, none of your goddamn business."

"Just tell me you've stayed away from her."

"Now, that fact that you're calling to harass me about it makes me think you don't believe that."

"I need to know."

"That's not my problem."

"Jess, I'm not playing here. She was fine, and now she's a bundle of nerves."

He stood in the middle of the street, his destination forgotten for a moment. "What's wrong with her?"

"What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything. Why, what did you do to her? Damnit, Logan, tell me what's wrong with her."

"She's skittish, for one," he began.

"Rory's skittish. What'd you just meet? Oh, right, my mistake."

"Something must have happened."

"You know, what goes on with Rory and me, it's between us. If she sees fit to tell you, fine, but I don't need the extra work that badly."

Logan wanted to retort, but Jess had hung up. It was late morning, and he had places to be. He was expected at any number of gatherings, but he was so mad he couldn't see straight. He could see the preoccupation in her eyes last night, even before she tensed up and ran out. He figured Jess had been on her mind, but he also got the distinct impression that she'd been happy to see him at the party, as well. He got into his car and headed out, needing to clear his mind.

&&&&

Rory woke the next morning, most of her body aching from the twisted position in which she'd slept. Lorelai never had gone back to her own bed, instead, they contorted themselves in such a way that made sharing the tiny single bed possible, just not smart.

"I'm too old for this," Lorelai groaned, rubbing her neck with her hand.

"Me too," Rory frowned, shaking her arm to get feeling back in it.

"How're you feeling?"

Rory was quiet for a moment, contemplating the real answer. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, babe, anything."

"What exactly did you mean when you said that Logan was my Christopher?"

Lorelai sighed. "I don't know Logan, but from the brief moments I caught of you together, and what you've told me, I remember feeling all of that with Chris."

"But, I don't know that Logan is the great love of my life."

"I'm not saying he's your soul mate, or the great love of your life. I'm saying that if you'd been raised in the world you were supposed to be; if I stayed in Hartford and married your dad, and you'd gone to fancy private schools and done the ueber-expensive idiotic summer camp thing—then Logan would be the kind of guy that you would have been nudged towards. If not _the_ guy."

"Oh."

"And you do seem to have taken a liking to him."

Rory nodded. "He kind of swept me off my feet, you know? You should see these lavish affairs they put on, it's like nothing is off limits for these people."

"I know," Lorelai smiled. "I remember."

"You and Dad did stuff like this?"

"Well, I missed out on the whole college secret society thing, as did your dad, but if we'd gotten a trustier condom, then yeah, we probably would have," she mused.

Rory nodded again. She liked the silence, and the understanding of her mother.

"Can I ask you a question now?"

"Sure."

"Jess? Again?" her tone pleading.

"I can't give you a real answer."

"Try?"

Rory pulled her pillow from behind her back into her lap as she sat cross-legged on her bed in front of her mother, who did the same.

"We were at this party in New York, at Coney Island. Jess was there, and all of a sudden this intense anger swelled up at me. Before I knew it, we were at my tent, and he was being all serious and concerned for me—I don't know. I got the distinct impression he was somehow different than before he left town."

"Well, not to throw a log on the pile for Jess, but he is, Hon. I've been with Luke a lot lately, and he mentions him. How mature he is, how good he's doing. And I saw him at Liz's wedding. He seems like he can really take care of himself now. People do change."

Rory nodded. "I know. That's one of the reasons I let him in when he came over here the other day, to ask me to go to New York with him."

"So, you're torn here?"

"I don't know if tearing is even necessary."

"You know that Jess loves you."

"He used to."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know how to feel. He's got this thing about him, it's like it's impossible for me to forget about him, or not to forgive him. It's not like it is with Logan—it's not that he's showing me this luxurious life of the kind of things he can give me, but he's showing me the real world. The gritty, ugly, raw, colorful, passionate side of things, you know?"

"Something else you really haven't been exposed to. I was a bad, mother, wasn't I?" Lorelai half-joked.

"Never let me hear those words come out of your mouth again, young lady," Rory admonished, joking back.

"Well, we should get to Luke's. He's desperate to hear you're A-Okay."

Rory nodded, and wondered if she was in fact A-Okay. She loved seeing her mother's face light up when she spoke of Luke. Luke gave her something she'd never had before—stability. An unwavering source of love and admiration. All in the face of having witnessed her mother and father's unbreakable bond over the years. She wondered how he did it. As her mother left the room to go take a shower, she grabbed her trusty book off her nightstand, and flipped it open.

A knock on the door caused her to almost immediately put the book back down on the nightstand. She grabbed her robe and wrapped it around her, padding her bare feet down the hallway to answer.

Logan stood, in jeans and t-shirt, on her front porch. It was a strange sight—to see him dressed so normally and at her mother's house. She was so used to costuming and elaborate backdrops. It was like he was evening the playing field.

"Hey," she said, holding onto the door with both hands.

"Hey. Can I come in?"

"Oh, uh. Sure, yeah, come in."

He nodded and stepped into the house as she moved to shut the door. He seemed to be taking in the surroundings, as if in a museum. Sort of how she must look when at functions with him, she mused.

His visual tour over quickly, he turned and faced her.

"Cute pajamas," he smiled.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were. That was quite a quick escape you made last night."

"I'm sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind."

He nodded. "Me too."

She looked up at him, quizzically. "Oh, really? Let me guess. The state of your grades? The harem of women that follow you around—that must be a bear."

"I would hardly call it a harem."

"What are you really doing here?"

"I came to see you."

His simple honesty was a bit shocking to her. He was the sort to go after what he wanted, but she was still a little unsure of why he wanted her—or if he really did.

"Oh."

"Unless you're busy, in which case I'd like to know what you're busy doing in your pajamas."

There was that smile, the one she swore he plastered on just to egg her on.

"No, my Mom and I were just about to go get breakfast."

"Go get?"

"We're not much for cooking around here," she said, crossing her arms over her chest to feel a little less exposed. She really needed to remember that he'd seen all that he wanted to see when she'd been passed out more than likely, but her conscious mind couldn't help it. She was glad that she couldn't remember that whole incident.

"So, do I get an invite, or you are going to leave me twisting in the wind here?"

She looked at him, thinking of him wandering around her small town with her and Lorelai. Going to Luke's. Stopping by Doose's for junk food. Raiding the video store for the latest new releases and unearthing old treasures. She wanted to picture it, but it was like a square peg trying to be jammed in a round hole.

"Join at your own risk. I wouldn't want you to be bored."

"With you? Never," he assured her, and she couldn't help but blush.

&&&&

After showers and proper introductions, the three set out for Luke's. Logan offered to drive, to which he was promptly laughed at by both women. He followed the girls as they headed out on the short walk to the diner.

The diner was packed when they got there. Rory was almost afraid that Logan was going to trip and fall as he hadn't been watching where he was going—he was looking at the town around him. She giggled, and nudged him.

"You okay?"

"You grew up here?"

"Yep."

"Interesting," he nodded, his expression coming back to normal.

"What is?"

"You seem like such a normal person," he looked into her eyes.

"I am," she nodded, not giving him the argument he was trying for.

"So, is this like live theater? Free show with the food type deal?"

"If you're a good boy," she placated him. They leaned against the door as Lorelai went about getting them coffee for the wait. She came back and handed off cups.

"He just served a ton of people, might be a bit of a wait, even for counter space."

"Hey, you're dating him, why can't we just eat upstairs?"

"Ooh, there's an idea. Why didn't I think of that?"

"I don't know," Rory giggled.

"I do it all the time, just in the middle of the night. I should be enjoying eating down here at night, enjoying my choice of tables and freedom from the dress codes of society."

"Okay, stop now, and go charm the diner man."

Logan watched the exchange amused. He took a drink of coffee, and watched as the most energetic mother in the world ran off to pester one of the crankiest looking men on the face of the earth. He could tell that it was more of an act with Lorelai, but he got the distinct impression that the barking at the others was pure and from the heart.

"Your mother is dating the guy in flannel?"

"Luke," Rory nodded, pointing to the sign on the window.

"Ah, right. Of course."

"Not a fan of the small town?"

"I just had no idea there were forty-five minute waits at exclusive diners," he shook his head.

"Well, it's not five stars or anything, and there definitely aren't linen napkins," she shrugged.

"You like this place," he nodded.

"I love this place."

"It's really great coffee," he nodded.

She smiled. He really wasn't stuck up, just adapting. She couldn't imagine having brought anyone else from her other world here—only Paris had come to the diner once, and that was to try to expose its seedy under-belly. She wondered what Paris would say if she could see her and Logan here now, in Luke's.

"No!"

"Luke!"

"Come back in an hour," he rolled his eyes.

"We'll die. Die, Luke. From lack of food. I thought you liked Rory," she said, pointing over her shoulder. Rory waved at Luke, and he nodded back.

"It's an hour."

"We'll be forced to take our business elsewhere," she threatened.

"You don't pay here!" he retorted.

"Well, okay, we might not, but the kid there will."

"Who is that? He looks familiar."

"I'll explain later. If you let us eat upstairs."

"No. Out of the question. Look, there are three stools opening up here at the counter. Now, sit and order."

"I've been reduced to the counter," she pouted, waving Rory and Logan over.

"You eat the counter almost every day."

"Yeah, but by choice. I've never been forced to."

He rolled his eyes and walked off to work. In his absence, Lorelai turned to her daughter and Logan.

"So, Logan, you're in town for how long?"

"I just came to see Rory."

"I see," she nodded, checking Rory's expression for a reaction. "So, how is it you got a coveted invite to the Gilmore Christmas party? You tick someone off?"

He let out a small laugh. "My parents are friends of your folks."

"Ah, how, nice," she managed.

"You obviously don't think so," he noticed. "You don't like my parents?"

"I don't like my parents," she corrected.

"Ah. Hence the moving here," he nodded.

"It's sort of a long story," Rory said quickly, wanting to stop the exchange that was going on here.

"Oh, I get the feeling that Logan here knows all about it, don't you?" she eyed the boy carefully. She was beginning to get a strange feeling, one she didn't like. She feared her mother's involvement.

Rory looked to Logan, confused as to what her mother was getting at. All the times he mentioned private information about her, things he shouldn't know came flooding into her mind.

"Uh, Mom, we're going to take a walk, okay?"

Lorelai nodded, giving Logan a distrustful look as Rory led him through the mass of people that still filled the diner. They got out onto the sidewalk and she turned to face him.

"Something you'd like to tell me?"

"Calm down. It's not what you think," he began, putting his hands over her forearms.

She shook off his touch, and stepped back. "How accidental was it that I ran into you that first day, with Marty?"

"Completely. Our meeting, our involvement together was completely guided by fate."

"Fate?" she raised an eyebrow. "Something tells me you don't believe in fate."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"But you know so much about me, and my family," she crossed her arms.

"Once I realized what your last name was, I put two and two together. My parents have known Richard and Emily a long time. You intrigued me, so I asked some questions. That's all."

"So, you went digging for information on me?"

"You did the same thing about me," he reminded.

"That was for a story."

"Well, this came out of that."

"My grandparents didn't arrange this?"

"I'm here of my own volition. This isn't some good breeding marriage scheme," he smiled, loving the grandeur with which she jumped to conclusions. At least she had an active imagination, that was for sure.

"And now I feel stupid," she looked down, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Don't," he said, his voice quiet.

"It's just my mom, she doesn't really trust my grandparent's involvement in our lives," she tried, wondering if he knew that too.

"It's okay. I don't really like my father's meddling into mine, either."

"Is that your way of saying he wouldn't approve of me?"

"Guess he'll just have to meet you and decide that for himself, then we'll know."

"Logan," she said, taken aback.

"What, I've met your mom," he tallied.

"True, but," she said, harried.

"Let me take you on a date."

"You don't even know what's around here," she said, despite her surprise.

"Well, I didn't mean this second. I'll pick you up tonight."

"Logan, really, you don't have to," she bit her lip.

"I don't have to do anything, here, Rory. I want to be around you, it makes me happy. What do you say?"

"Pick me up at seven?"

"Perfect," he said, taking her hand to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. She smiled to herself as she watched him wander back towards their house and his car. She leaned back against the exterior to Luke's Diner and wondered what the hell she was going to do. Talking to people didn't seem to help. She felt as if life dumped every complication into her lap all at once. This might be one decision she wasn't ready to face yet.


	13. Be Glad, It Melts into Wonder

AN: Title is from Dave Matthews Band's song, #41, from the Crash album. Thanks for the reviews. More as soon as I get the chance.

Rory was still getting dressed for her date with Logan when the doorbell rang. Since she'd had no notification of where they were going, she was having a horrible time picking out an outfit. She did, however, know what shoes she wanted to wear.

"Mom, get that, please?" she leaned out into the kitchen, still in her robe.

Lorelai had a Bagel Bite halfway up to her mouth when Rory stuck her head out. She looked at her unprepared daughter and set the Bite back down on the plate.

"Sure, I'll keep him occupied while you get pretty," she winked.

"Wait! Come back in two minutes and tell me how he's dressed."

Lorelai looked at her daughter, trying to ascertain her level of seriousness. "Wouldn't it be more fun if we just made up a signal?"

"Mom, go!"

Lorelai scooted down the hall, ranting about Rory being no fun when she's stressed, and opened the door. Surveying the image, she was confused as to what had Rory so worked up. He looked like a twenty-something guy (albeit a rather stunning specimen of one, that was for sure) picking up a girl for a date. Khaki pants. Clean sweater. Flowers. Looks good, seemingly without effort. She smiled.

"Come on in, Rory's not quite ready."

"Good, I was hoping to get to talk to you first, anyhow."

"You were?" her tone leery yet intrigued.

"Yeah. I got the distinct feeling earlier that you don't like me."

"I don't even know you."

"Didn't stop Rory."

"What?"

"She seemed to think I was an elitist snob the first time we met."

Lorelai smiled. "And you've proved her wrong?"

"I have. Rory wouldn't have bothered otherwise, we both know that."

She nodded, he was right. Rory was a fairly good judge of character, and tended to bring out the best in people. Whatever she saw in this guy should be enough for her as well.

"So, I just wanted to make sure I was getting a fair shot here. You grew up how I did. Just because my family is wealthy, that means nothing about what kind of person I am."

"I know. And as long as Rory's happy, so am I."

He smiled. Instantly Lorelai knew what had broken through her daughter's strong resolve. He wasn't just attractive; this man seemed to radiate charm.

"Oh, shoot! I left the stove on, I'll be right back," she said, leaving him in the living room as she ran back to Rory's room.

Standing in front of all her clothes, no closer to being dressed, was Rory. Looking rather impatient.

"Mom! Geez, what were you doing? Getting a full medical history?"

"No, that's your job. I was checking his tags for designer labels," she joked.

"Mom," she rolled her eyes.

"He's all date 'cas'. Khakis, sweater, killer smile."

Rory smiled. "He does have one of those, doesn't he?"

"He does. Now, get dressed!"

&&&&

"Did my mom give you a hard time? She has a reputation for that."

"She didn't tell you?"

"No, why?"

"She said she'd left the oven on, and you told me this morning that neither of you cook," he raised an eyebrow. "I assumed I was the topic of discussion."

"Detail fiend."

"That I am."

"If you must know, she was reporting on your clothes."

"Afraid I'd be in something embarrassing?" he asked knowingly.

"No! I just didn't want to be over- or under-dressed."

"You look perfect."

"Thank you."

She smiled and watched him drive for a moment. They'd been in the car for several minutes, and not once had he so much as hinted to their destination.

"So, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

She settled back into her seat, knowing how good he was at keeping secrets. It probably wasn't worth the work she'd put in to get his evasive comments in return. Within ten minutes, they arrived outside a large movie house. He parked and walked around to open her door.

"A movie as a first date. And here I was expecting a little more originality from you," she teased as she took his outstretched hand to help her out of his car.

"Hey, I had very little notice. Besides, just wait before you go making judgments."

He led her into the theater, and the first thing she noticed was that there was no concession area. She stopped in her tracks.

"This is highly dangerous," she informed him.

"What's that?"

"You brought a Gilmore to a movie without snacks. Mom should have prepped you better," she shook her head.

He chuckled. "Who is it that's responsible for your lack of patience?"

She attempted to glare at him, but it faded quickly as they stepped into the actual theater. It was nearly three-quarters full, with half an hour left until show time. All the seats had tables in front of them, with what looked like large remote controls. The crowd was engaged in a trivia game they were playing using the movie screen and their remotes. Most everyone was also eating.

"Whoa."

He looked at her stunned reaction. Eliciting only a one-word reaction from her was rare—she tended to stay on the prolific side. As she continued to look around, they walked down towards the middle of the seating area. She picked up her remote immediately.

"So, how does this work, exactly?"

"You punch these keys in reference to the menu—there is also a full bar—and to play along with the game, use those," he pointed as he spoke.

"How did you know about this place?" her big blue eyes trained on him, still full of wonder.

"Some friends of mine are financial backers of the joint," he explained, "So I've been coming since it opened. Genius idea."

"Totally."

&&&&

After the movie, they hit a coffee shop down the street from the theater. As they sat in a quiet corner, she smiled at him. As much as she enjoyed the over-the-top events she'd attended with him, kicking back with him gave her the same pleasure.

"Not as good as Luke's," he concluded, taking a sip.

"Nothing is."

"You've been spoiled," he informed her.

"Yeah. A lot, actually."

"I can tell. That's quite a place you're from."

"I grew up in a completely magical place," she agreed.

"Tell me more about it," he encouraged.

"Well, the people are insane, and constantly in your business—but that also means that you're never really alone. And since it was just Mom and me, they sort of adopted us."

"Sounds nice, always having someone around."

"Yeah. When I wasn't at school or with my friend Lane, I worked at my Mom's inn."

"First job?"

"Yep, since I was six. They let me restock towels and mints."

"Mine was as a newspaper delivery boy."

"Go figure," she teased, knowing of his father's career in the industry.

"My dad kept telling me for years about how it was his first job, and how he worked his way up to where he is now," he reminisced. "He made it sound really cool. And it was, but sadly, it only lasted three months."

"What happened? Break a window?"

"My arm."

"Ouch."

"I got bored, riding my bike the same route, throwing the papers. I decided to do some bike tricks."

"So, no career as Tony Hawk's understudy either?"

"Nope. Broke my arm in two places."

She was amazed at how effortless this was. She had never been good at dating, but here she was. Having an amazing time with someone that didn't include a messy, angsty history. Their fresh start was a relief in and of itself.

"Can I ask you a question?" he leaned in.

"Yeah, anything."

"It's about Jess."

"Oh. Okay."

So much for her history escaping her.

"I was just wondering, you never explained anything about your history with him. Is it history?"

She looked at her coffee cup. "It's kind of complicated."

"I'm all ears."

"We dated," she began, as much as he'd figured. "He left, right uh, right before my graduation from Chilton, without telling anyone. Not me, not his uncle, not even the people he was going to visit. He was on my bus one morning, going to California, and said he'd call me. That was all I got."

She looked like it'd happened just yesterday. Not a good sign.

"After that, he showed up a few times, his uncle, well, Luke lives in Stars Hollow, that's how we met. Anyway, he told me he loved me, then he took off. He showed up at Yale and asked me to come away with him, then left. It was so much to take, you know? I kept thinking I was over it all, I had to be, then boom, he'd appear, and make it harder."

"That's why you were so thrilled to see him in New York," he nodded.

"Yeah. The yelling thing tends to just happen around him," she smiled.

"I could tell. So, have you talked with him since?"

She nodded. "You answered my cell phone, and it was him. Is that what this is about?"

"I'm just concerned. You don't seem to have a handle of yourself around him."

She nodded again. "Like I said, it's complicated."

"So, what does he want?"

"Want?"

"From you. When you talk to him," he explained.

"Oh. He just wants to know how I am. If I'm happy."

"Are you?"

She looked up into Logan's eyes. "Yeah. I am. Happy, I mean."

He smiled and put his hand on hers. "So, do you want to hear what I have in mind for our second date?"

She perked up, glad not to be talking about Jess with Logan. That part of her felt too private to share, sometimes even with Lorelai. She hadn't told Logan the whole truth, but some things were just hers. The fact that her heart was being pulled in different directions wasn't something she could share right now.

"There's going to be a second date?"

"Well, you complained about lack of originality. I'm thinking of something to get your excitement level up. Ever been skydiving?"

"Okay, see to get my excitement level up, maybe we should start with a scary movie," she urged.

"You jumped off the platform."

"I was terrified! Plus, skydiving is much scarier."

He just smiled, and they fell back into their conversation.

&&&&

"Luke's. We're closed."

"It's me."

"Hey, Jess," Luke rested his cleaning hand on the counter as he heard his nephew's voice.

"Is now okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm not sure I'll make it for Christmas."

"What? Is this about your mom? I thought you two were doing better."

"No, Liz is. . . Liz. We are doing better, I guess. Not that I enjoy TJ's stories," he trailed off in his natural sarcastic tone.

"You said you were coming," Luke reminded in his best voice of authority he could ever summon.

"It's Rory."

"Rory?"

"You heard me."

"Jess," Luke sighed, "What happened?"

"Nothing, I just think it's better to give her her space right now."

"And you did nothing to warrant her needing this space?"

"We've talked. I haven't heard from her since we got back from New York. It's just better for me to stay here right now. She'll be home," he stopped for a moment. "It's just better."

"You mean easier for you."

"Luke, this isn't up for discussion."

"Fine. Hey, who is the blonde guy?"

"What?"

"The one that's been sniffing around. He was here earlier today with her."

Jess felt like someone had socked him in the stomach. He hadn't heard from Rory since he dropped her off at home, after their shared night together. He wasn't sure what to make of it, so he told himself that it was solely about her need to be comforted. The fact that it was perhaps the most intimate evening they'd shared—hell, that he'd ever had—well, he still couldn't think about that. She hadn't called, and obviously she'd decided to date Logan.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I need to get going."

"Okay, just, call your mom, too, all right?"

"Yeah. All right."

Luke stared at the phone after it went dead. Jess' voice sounded almost haunted during the conversation. He couldn't believe that nothing was going on here. He wondered how much Lorelai knew. Sighing, he hung up and resumed cleaning up the diner.


	14. Rhyme & Reason

_Rory had shifted in her sleep, as she now found her nose pressed into his left shoulder blade upon awaking. It'd been his even breath on her neck that had lulled her to sleep earlier that night. It was still early, with plenty of time to drift back to sleep, the only light coming from the moon that was casting down through the uncovered window—the blinds having been forgotten to be pulled closed in the pure emotion of it all. She knew the blinds weren't the only thing she'd forgotten. Her own rational thought had been absent as well, but at this moment—her arm draped around his lean waist, her fingers woven through his as he held them to his chest—nothing else mattered. Closing her eyes, she pressed her whole face into the bare skin of his shoulder, allowing her lips contact with his body. She'd never shared a bed with someone in such an intimate way in her life._

_The thought that she could get used to this was almost enough to make her cry, as she couldn't count on both of them letting their guards down to allow it to happen again in the future. She focused again on the rise and fall of his ribcage with his breath and fell back into a deep sleep._

There came a knock at the bedroom door. Sitting up a bit, she announced the okay to enter, in a voice untainted by sleep.

"You're already awake?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"You just sneak back in or something?" Lorelai asked, wiggling her eyebrows at her daughter.

"No. I got home around one. But nice try, pretending you didn't wait up and come down to check on me after I turned my light out," Rory looked at her mother knowingly.

"Busted! So, it was a good date?"

"Really good date," Rory nodded, smiling. "We had a lot of fun."

"Aw, good, and I want details, but I have to run. Lunch at the Inn?"

"Sure, it's a date."

Lorelai nodded and left the house. Rory, clad in Logan's loaned t-shirt, stood and wandered out into the kitchen. She stared at the kitchen table blankly for a few moments, and then turned to look back into her bedroom. These were the actions of someone truly home alone. She snapped out of her haze, and walked determinedly into her room, pulling on jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt over her t-shirt. She grabbed her coat and keys, and headed out the front door.

-

Once in town, Rory bee-lined for the diner. Swinging the door open, she glanced around the room, her eyes on a specific search.

"Hey, Rory!"

"Lane, hey."

"To what do I owe the pleasure? You need coffee?"

"Oh, uh, no—do you know where Luke is?"

"No, this is his morning off, why? Something wrong with Lorelai?"

"No, no, why?"

"You're acting all funny," Lane leaned in, informing her friend as if she were telling her she had something in her teeth, as all good best friends do.

"Sorry," she took a moment and truly smiled at her friend. She could always count on Lane. "I just wanted to ask him something."

"Why don't you sit, and have some coffee? On the house."

"How can I resist that?" she asked, moving to sit at the counter to await her free coffee. It was nice to see Lane in the diner—a little odd still, but nice. Lane was finally following her own path, and she was truly happy for her friend.

She forgot about Lane as she became hyper-aware that the person to her right was staring at her. Not wholly uncommon in this town, but she usually knew the person leering at her. She glanced at the woman, smiled, and looked away. She looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't rightly place her.

"You need Luke?"

Rory looked at the mystery woman again, a bit startled, and nodded.

"Well, I'm not him, but I am his sister, can I help you?"

His sister, that meant—Jess' mom.

"Oh, well," she considered the possibility, but decided against it. "I don't think so."

"You look familiar—are you Lorelai's daughter?"

"Yeah," she found herself smiling politely.

"Oh, I've heard so much about you! It's so good to finally meet you! I've wanted to thank you, Luke told me how great you were to Jess—I'm Jess' mom, Liz," she gushed.

Rory looked at her, rather bewildered at Liz's gushing of information.

"You did date Jess, didn't you?" Liz asked, Rory's silence and freaked out look making her second-guess her assumptions.

"Yeah, I did. I'm sorry, I hate to bother you, but do you know where I can find Jess?"

Liz smiled. "You still care about him."

"What?"

"Now, I know he has his issues, but there's something about him, isn't there? He's going to be such a good man, just like my dad, whom I guess you never knew, but you know Luke. I mean, Jess is young and figuring it all out, you know?"

Rory's head was starting to hurt. Jess' love of quiet and not feeling a need to share his feelings were becoming rather blatant as she listened to his mother ramble on to her, a perfect stranger.

Suddenly, there was a break in the rambling words, as Liz's attention shifted behind Rory.

"There he is!"

Rory turned to see Luke, followed by a very disgruntled looking Jess. Both men stopped immediately on seeing the two women conversing. The four were immobilized for a moment, each taking in the scene.

It was Jess that moved first, muttering under his breath about how he was never listening to Luke again as he made his way up to the apartment.

Rory was the next to move, following Jess before she lost her nerve. Luke attempted to tell her to wait, but if she heard him, she paid no heed. Liz put her hand on her brother's shoulder.

"Leave 'em."

Luke looked up the stairs, and shook his head.

-

"Jess."

Her voice was much calmer than her stomach. She felt she might go crazy if he didn't say something. He was just standing there, his back to her. Her eyes ran along the line of his shoulder blade, a warm memory washing over her momentarily.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

He turned to face her, and she took a step back under his intense gaze.

"What do you want me to say?"

"It's been a week, I just thought," she trailed off, wanting him to make this easier.

"That I'd call you?"

She nodded.

"Why didn't you just call me? Too busy going out with your boyfriend, right?"

"He's not my boyfriend," she began, the defensive tone building. "Not that it's your business. How do you even know about that anyway?"

"It doesn't matter. Obviously, none of this," he gestured between them, the air palpable though he tried to push that fact aside, "Matters to you."

"I can't keep doing this!" she erupted.

"Doing what?"

"That night meant nothing to you?" she demanded.

He couldn't look at her, if he were going to keep the wall between them up. It crumbled easily enough. It always did.

"You can't do this, Jess! It's not fair—you come in, you make me believe . . . and maybe it's easy for you . . . but then you leave and I hear nothing for weeks or months, even. I can't, I just can't."

"You think this is easy for me? Easy, Rory? Fine. You can go on thinking that I'm the biggest asshole in the world, but first know this. No matter how many times I've screwed up, screwed _us_ up, I was doing it for the right reasons. For you."

Tears threatened as the familiar tug of her heart on its way out to get fractured yet again caught her attention.

"You want me to be over you?" she asked quietly.

There was no meeting her eyes. No time to decide if it were better for her to believe that or not.

"Fine," she said, as she moved past him, and through the door. Out of his life again.

Upon seeing Rory exit the diner as if on fire, Liz ignored Luke and headed up to check on her son. Jess was still standing in the same spot as when Rory left moments earlier.

"You okay?"

"Tell Luke I'm sorry, I can't stay," he said quietly.

"Jess, please," she started, stepping towards him.

He shook his head, his jaw set. "It was a mistake to come back here now."

"What happened, Jess? Why can't you just let her love you?"

His eyes snapped up, staring at his mother. He wanted to ask her when the hell she became such an expert on him, Rory, or love for that matter. He wanted to tell her that she had no idea of the situation he'd gotten himself into, or how badly beyond repair it seemed at times.

Most of all he wondered if it really were just that simple.

"I'll call you," he said, letting his mother hug him before leaving the diner, past a defeated Luke, headed for the bus stop.

-

Lorelai was exhausted. The inn was filled with guests in town for the holidays, which was wonderful, but taxing. She wondered where Rory had gotten hung up at earlier, as she hadn't come for lunch, and hadn't been answering her cell. She kicked off her shoes as she entered the house, ready to change into something more comfy and relax.

"Rory?" she called.

"In here!"

Lorelai made a turn to head into the kitchen. Rory sat at the table, going over some paperwork.

"Hey, so you're punishing Mommy?"

"What?" Rory looked up at her.

"No lunch," she reminded.

"Ohmygod! I'm sorry, I completely forgot!"

"Hey, it's okay," she assured her.

"No, I completely spaced!"

"Where were you?"

"I took a walk," she said, looking back to her papers.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Luke called me."

"Oh."

"Jess left."

"I figured."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

Lorelai nodded. "Okay, but if you do, I'm Richard Marx."

Rory looked at her mother, brow furrowed.

"Right Here Waiting?"

Rory rolled her eyes, as her mother walked upstairs, singing all the way. Rory turned her attention back to her work. She focused on the article she was researching, losing herself in her concentration until she heard her mother let Luke into the house. Putting her pencil down, she listened to the hushed tones coming from the hall.

"She okay?"

"She says she is."

"She didn't say what happened?"

"No. Any word from Jess?"

She couldn't take it anymore. She needed to think happier thoughts and put this behind her, once and for all. She pulled out her cell from under a pile of papers and took it to her room as she dialed.

"This is Logan," his voice was full of cheer. Just what she wanted right now.

"Hey, it's me. Rory," she added for safety.

"Hey, Ace, what can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if you were up to some company."

"Hang on a sec," he instructed her. He must have held the phone out, as she heard quite a bit of background noise, then his voice again. "Boys, who's in favor of the fair Ms. Gilmore joining the party?" She then heard cheers, and Finn asking for the phone. Logan must have dodged his attempts, as his voice came back on the line for her again.

"I think you better get over here, Ace, before the natives get too restless."

"Where are you?"

"No worries, there will be a car to get you in a half hour. Sound good?"

"Perfect."

AN: Ah, getting close to the end. Some major stuff going on in the next chapter. Major, major. Hope you all enjoyed this installment. The big reveal will be soon, I promise. I thank all of you who have stuck by it, with all the not knowing, and for reviewing.


	15. Time Is Running Out

AN: Okay, this chapter gets a little more PG-13. Nothing, in my mind, graphic enough to bump up to R, but be forewarned. . . But here, as I promised, is more major stuff. . . enjoy. Oh, and Chapter title is from the Muse song.

As the driver pulled into the long, winding driveway, she recognized the mansion as the same one the initiation ceremony had been held at. She tried to put out of her mind the sound of her mother's worried voice. Lorelai knew she was hurting, but she didn't want to dwell on this. On Jess. She felt weak enough, as here she was two years later, and Jess was still under her skin and on her mind. Tonight, he would become a thing truly of the past. She had to do anything in her power to make that true. . . because this pain of his absence was too much now. There were other options opening up to her for the first time—if she didn't do something now, she worried it would never happen.

She thanked the driver, and made her way to the main door. She could hear the music and voices, and decided that knocking would be futile. She tried the door, not surprised to find it unlocked. She slipped into the increasingly familiar crowd. She continued moving through rooms until she heard his voice behind her, causing her to whirl around.

"You made it."

"Well, sending me transportation usually ensures my arrival."

"True," he laughed. "So, what can I get you?"

"Surprise me," she said, earning an impressed look.

"Don't move," he instructed, slipping back into the crowd.

"At last you've come to your senses, my darling. He doesn't deserve a woman such as you."

She turned to see Finn coming up around her. She smiled, as he put his arm around her shoulders.

"Who says he had me?"

Logan showed up again just then, two bright blue drinks in his hands.

"Toying with me?" he asked Rory, looking disappointed. "She's wily, this one," he told Logan.

"I know," he smiled, handing her one of the drinks.

"What is this?" she asked Logan.

"A surprise."

Finn was gone, and she took a sip of the drink Logan had gotten for her. It was good—cold and fruity. Something she imagined drinking on a white sandy beach. She willed the part of her that was wondering how much alcohol she was pouring into her system to shut up. Perhaps she'd kill off the brain cells that were still occupied by her memories of Jess. She took a long drink.

"So, what brings you out tonight?"

"Your car and driver."

"You don't seem like the party-girl type," he leaned closer to her. "Did something happen?"

"No, I'm just trying to blow off some steam—it's not important really."

"I doubt that," he countered.

"I applied for this internship, at the Times for the summer, and I won't hear back for months. I'm afraid I won't get it and end up wasting another summer," she explained, taking another drink.

It was true; just not completely accurate. She finished her drink, the alcohol kicking into her bloodstream.

"I could get my dad to make a few calls, if it's that important to you."

She looked at him for a beat, knowing that was all it would take. The beginning step to fulfilling her dream, served up on a silver platter. One 'yes' from her and she'd be assured to never know if she could truly hack it on her own merits, or if people were nodding and smiling at her to save their own careers.

"No!" It came out much louder than she'd expected. He looked at her for a moment, sizing up how much of her outrage could be accounted for by the alcohol she'd just practically inhaled.

"I just want to forget about it for tonight," she said in a softer tone.

"I wasn't trying to upset you," he began.

"No, I know. I just hate handouts. It's not who I want to be."

He nodded, he could respect that. "Do you want another drink?" he asked, trying to help her cause. She nodded, and he put his hand on her shoulder as he began to walk past her.

Momentarily, as if on cue, Colin and Finn descended upon her. She was already feeling more than a little tipsy—the strength of her drink she'd finally been able to judge in the last dregs of it. All her filters were shutting down.

"Does he make you look after me?" she asked both the men.

"No one makes anyone do anything here. It's not how we work," Colin informed her. "Want to dance?"

She did. Finally she was feeling good. Definitely in a dancing mood. She took Colin's hand, and followed him to one of the designated dancing areas. The music seemed to move her. She felt his hands on her waist, as if he feared her falling down. The thought made her laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asked with interest.

She shook her head. It was already gone.

"Does he sleep with a lot of girls?"

"Are you okay?"

"It's okay, you can tell me," she assured him.

"I think maybe you should ask him about that."

She opened her mouth to talk again, but she heard her name being called from the direction they'd just come from. They both turned, to see Logan waiting with Finn, refills in his hand. Colin tugged at her arm, guiding her back over to the others. Logan handed Rory her drink, and Colin leaned in to Logan.

"I think you better cut her off."

"She's fine, she just needs to blow off some steam."

"Logan, she's already drunk," he told him.

"I'll be with her, she's fine."

Colin nodded, and walked off. This girl had no practice in holding her liquor, but if Logan wanted to deal with it, he wasn't going to butt in.

"How you doing?" Logan asked, eyeing her.

"Do you want to dance?"

Logan smiled. "Yeah, come on."

Once again, the music surrounded her, and she moved against Logan in a fuzzy haze. More alcohol hit her suddenly, and the blurry feeling that made it almost impossible to focus on any one thought for more than a moment faded. She felt her emotions dip, and she pushed harder into Logan in search of something. Some other feeling.

At her thin frame mashing into his, he wrapped his arms around her, and really looked at her. Her eyes were closed, as if she were lost in deep concentration. He leaned down far enough to kiss her, and she wasted no time in returning the gesture. Her fevered response left him dizzy, and not from his alcohol consumption. He pressed his lips to her ear.

"Come with me."

She nodded, following close behind him until they broke away from the crowd. They came to a seemingly deserted hallway, and now he leaned her back against the wall. She kissed him this time, finding now that she needed more. More of him. She felt like she was trying to outrun the depressant effects of the alcohol. The term "mood amplifier" flitted through her head, but she couldn't seem to articulate this to him, so she just moved her mouth down to his neck. It hit her that what she needed was a mood changer. She pulled back from him and looked into his lust-filled eyes. He wants this—he wants her. She could see it clearly.

"Is there anything that could make this feel," she stopped, trying to choose the right word.

"Feel what?" he asked breathlessly. She'd never seen him like this: heated and disheveled. All because of her.

"Not better, but," she bit her lip.

"You mean like intensified?"

She nodded. "Alcohol wearing off?" he asked softly.

She nodded again; not her first white lie.

"We don't have to do this, if you're not feeling right about it now," he gave her an out. Always the gentleman. She smiled. She wondered how much self-control that took.

"No, I was just wondering."

"Besides drugs, no," he laughed. "I promise, it'll be intense enough."

He sounded quite sure of himself, but there was still the nagging fear in her mind that she would be unable to let it all go—the memory of another intruding, not letting her be happy and free with Logan. The only other time she'd had sex, so much had hung over her head. She wanted to feel weightless.

"What kind of drugs?"

He looked more than a little surprised. "You're serious?"

She took a breath. "What do you take to feel uninhibited?"

"X."

She bit her lip. "Is there any here?"

He looked at her, trying to judge if she really wanted this. Normally what a lady wanted was what he supplied, but now. . .

"I don't know if you should," he traced her cheek with his forefinger.

She closed her eyes, at the touch. "Please. Just once, I don't want to think. I want to be reckless and carefree. Please," she opened her eyes, using them to plead with him.

"Just this once," he repeated, nodding. He kissed her again, and then went back down the hallway. He returned very quickly; she thought it might be some sort of search he would have to go on. She'd slid down the wall, leaning back against it to wait on him.

"You okay?"

She smiled up at him, and he crouched down, pulling up one of her hands and folding a pill into it.

"Just one?"

"Just one."

She nodded, and placed it on the back of her tongue, swallowing quickly. He seemed to watch her in amazement, though it was something he himself had done on more than one occasion.

He pulled her up to her feet, and kissed her again. It felt the same to her, his lips on hers. Warmth, tingling, and want filled her, but it was the same as before. Her thoughts distracted her. She willed them away. Maybe the drug didn't work on her. She wondered exactly what she'd expected. His lips left hers, moving down her neck as she wondered if maybe she needed a second pill or something. After about a half hour of making out in the hallway, she wasn't sure if they were still on the ground. An intense tingling began somewhere deep inside her, shaking every cell in her body. She felt like every molecule in her body had shifted ninety degrees. His lips seemed to be tracing some sort of fire trail, cauterizing her skin, and she slipped her hands under his shirt, feeling his almost velvety soft skin of his back, and dug her nails in harder than she realized, dragging them down towards his pants. He groaned, and she giggled. His hands became much more aggressive, grabbing at her, starting at her waist, and suddenly he was kneading her breasts. There were no thoughts in her mind any longer, just them and what she'd asked him for—intensity.

-

He was asleep, exhausted by their recent activities, especially on top of an evening of drinking. They'd stumbled into a room over an hour earlier, and now she lay awake in his arms, wide-awake and glistening. She was thirsty, thirstier than she could ever remember being, and her heart was racing a mile a minute.

She peeled his arms off of her, careful not to wake him, and slipped into the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and brought water up to her lips via cupped hands. She looked up, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She shuddered, for a moment not able to recognize her own reflection. In the mirror stood a woman, unclothed, and her pale skin flushed in certain areas. She leaned in closer, studying the way her pupils were dilated. Suddenly she felt the chill of the air around her, and she shivered again. She stared into the eyes that reflected back to her in the mirror, overwhelmed at the unrecognizable image staring back at her. She turned quickly and stepped into the bedroom, looking for something to make her calm down. She wanted to feel safe, but she saw nothing to hold onto. There was a boy with blonde hair in the bed—not brown. She grabbed her cell phone out of her pants and a robe off an armchair and fled back into the bathroom, careful not to look into the mirror.

-

Jess wasn't answering the fucking phone. If it were someone else, perhaps, but surely she knew better than to call him. After the last conversation they'd had, he was done. She was, too—she'd told him so much. All answering his phone would do was fuck him up even more. Confuse an already confusing situation.

It rang a third time, and he knew it would go to voicemail after the fourth. Maybe she was in trouble. It would be the only way he could rationalize her having the courage to call. It rang a fourth time, and he picked it up again, flipping it open angrily. He hated losing his better judgment.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I'm so scared."

Her voice—he thought he was hearing things. It was her voice, but she sounded odd. She sounded strung out. He needed to speak, to get her to talk, and he'd see he was crazy. Rory Gilmore wouldn't take drugs. Unless it was unknowingly introduced into her system.

"What's wrong?"

"My eyes, I can't, it's just not me."

"Rory, I need you to concentrate for me, okay?"

"Jess, I'm scared."

"Did you take a drink from someone you didn't know?"

"No."

"Did someone give you something else?"

"I took something," she cried.

"Do you know who gave it to you?"

"Logan, but I made him."

"You made him give you what? What did you take?"

"X."

"Ecstasy?"

"Yeah."

"How many."

"Just one."

"You're sure?"

"Jess," she said in a frantic voice, reminding him an interrogation wasn't what she called for.

"Why are you scared?"

"I can't stop it, Jess, I want to die. I have to get out of here, I can't be here."

"No, Rory, you're okay. Isn't Logan still there?"

'Fuck, who gives a girl X then leaves her?' He'd kill him, if he could get her to tell him where they were. If she even knew.

"The bedroom."

His heart sank again, lower than he knew it could go. He couldn't focus on that now. She wasn't his anyhow—she made that achingly clear over and over to him.

"Where are you?"

"The bathroom. I was so thirsty," she said.

"Rory," he started, not sure what to do.

"Please come get me," she cried. "I can't stay. I'm not me."

He didn't need to ask why, she probably couldn't tell him now anyway. She was coming down in a bad way.

"Where are you?"

"The house, the one from the party."

"Shit, Rory, I need you to try to remember."

"It's outside of New Haven," she tried.

"Are you at the manor, the one the Brigade owns?"

"Yeah."

"Stay where you are. Lock the door if you're scared, and do not under any circumstances drink any more alcohol or take any more pills. Drink some more water. Understand?"

"Please hurry."

-

Jess got to New Haven in less than an hour. He didn't bother looking at his speedometer; he just needed to get to the house. He'd been there to talk to some people about some of the various functions they needed help with. He was always invited to stay for whatever parties they were having. Unfortunately he also knew there were tons of bedrooms, so her whereabouts were still mainly hidden. He sought out Colin upon arrival and asked for Logan. He convinced him it was just about his aunt, and he wanted no harm. Colin said he saw him head into the fifth bedroom on the left down the main corridor. He thanked him and prayed that he wouldn't have to jimmy two locks. He didn't want to wake Logan. He had no idea if Logan was high, but he hoped he was just drunk. He'd be much groggier that way.

He tried the door handle and it opened easily. He breathed a silent breath of relief. Logan was indeed asleep, the room dark, but he could see his singular outline. He looked up to the bathroom door, and tried to think of a way not to scare the hell out of her. There was no way Logan was just going to let them leave together, if he woke up. He took some paper off of a table in the room, and a pen from his jacket. He scribbled a note and slipped it under the door. He heard the door unlock a moment later, and he opened the door, letting himself in and shutting the door. He relocked it just in case.

Looking at her, he could almost see why she couldn't recognize herself. At least, that is what he thought she meant. She was wearing a robe, one of those white, fluffy hotel ones, but she hadn't really secured it. It hung over her, but she'd managed to put her arms through. She must have been cold. She'd been crying. She sat on the floor, he guessed to avoid the mirror. She'd seemed really upset about her eyes. They were still the most brilliant blue, but it was obvious by looking into them that she was high.

"Hey," he whispered. He didn't dare touch her, he didn't want her to yell and scream.

"I didn't think you'd come."

He nodded. He wouldn't have been sure of her coming for him either. Though in the back of his mind, he knew she would. He wouldn't have blamed her for not, though.

"I didn't know what else to do," she said quietly, looking up at him for the first time. It was mostly dark in the bathroom, but there was light coming in from the window on the opposite side.

"It's okay. Do you still want to go?"

She nodded, and looked down.

"Where are your clothes?"

She pointed to the door. In the bedroom, of course. He'd collect them and usher her out the back, still in the robe. He tried to visualize the path out in his mind.

"How long ago did you take the pill? Do you know?"

She shook her head. She looked like she might start crying again, and he didn't need that.

"Okay, it's okay. Come on. And you have to be quiet."

She nodded, and he moved to tie her robe. She looked at him as he did it for her, like a child being dressed by a parent. He put his arm around her waist and they stood up together. She leaned back, and he caught her. He moved them to the door, and somehow managed to get it unlocked, pick up her clothes, and get them out the door without waking Logan up. He maneuvered her out the back and into his car, and she shook the whole car ride. He stopped the car at long last, her having said nothing the whole trip, and got her upstairs to his apartment. In his building, no one really looked twice at a strung out woman in a bathrobe. It was par for the course.

"We're at your apartment," she said, sounding a bit more coherent.

"Yep, come on, be careful," he said softly, helping her into his room. She fell down on his bed, and hugged the robe to her.

"My clothes?"

"I got 'em," he said, holding them up.

"Why here?"

"I'm not taking you home for your mother to see."

"Oh."

He looked at her, not understanding anything. She did have a knack for surprising him, but this was off the charts. She wasn't the first girl he'd nursed down from a bad trip, but she was the first that hurt him to watch.

"Why'd you call me?"

"It was you."

More babbling? He wasn't sure. He moved to sit in front of her, kneeling down on the floor.

"What?"

His tone was so soft, so inquisitive. She knew he cared, she'd always known. She didn't know why it was so hard. She wanted to ask him and for the first time she thought he might tell her why.

"I took it because of you."

"Rory," he shook his head. "You did not."

"I had to, you're everywhere, I can't think, I can't close my eyes, I can't move on. I've tried everything else. I drank this blue stuff, and it was okay, but you were still there. I couldn't," her voice was frantic. He could barely believe his ears.

"What blue stuff?"

"I wanted to feel happy. And when I think of you, all I feel is empty. It's like a puzzle missing pieces, and I go over and over it."

"Rory, calm down. It's okay. It's okay."

He raised up, now in a half crouch, holding her to him. She clung at him, holding onto his back.

"I'm sorry."

"I know. You're okay."

"I'm tired."

"Go to sleep."

"Will you stay here?"

"I'm right here. Go to sleep."

He laid her back, and moved to sit next to her. He pulled the blankets over her, and her confession played over in his mind as she fell into a fitful sleep. His mother's words came back to him. Her question of why he couldn't let Rory love him. He'd been so unsure that she really had, but now he was only really sure of one thing. She was going to have a really bad hangover in the morning. He smoothed her hair back out of her face as she slept, and watched over her.


	16. The More We Move Ahead, The More We're S...

She'd slept fitfully all night long. Not used to sleeping next to someone else anyway, he woke at her every groan, toss, turn, and incoherent rambling. There'd been more that night than usual. He tried to ignore the warm feeling that occurred in his stomach when he thought of the fact that he knew how she was while she slept. Her favorite position to lie in. The soft noises she made while she drempt. This noise she was making now was different, however. This was a groan of realization.

She was awake.

He sat up immediately, causing the mattress to move under them both. She groaned again at the involuntary jiggling of her body. She was hyper-aware of her organs; none of them seemed to be pleased. And her head—she felt like a Mac truck was parked on it.

"Morning, Alice," he said softly, pulling the sheet down from over her face.

She looked up at him, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She turned pale for a moment; he wondered what exactly she was remembering in that moment.

"How's your head?"

"Not good." She was thankful for his whisper of a tone.

He nodded. "I'll be right back."

He slipped out of the bed, and she noticed he was still wearing his jeans and a t-shirt. She looked down, seeing that her robe was gaping open. She pulled it closed, and remained with it in her firm grip as he came back into the room with a large bottle of aspirin, and a large glass of water.

"This will help with that feeling of still being on the other side of the looking glass," he poured out two aspirin into his hand before dropping it into her waiting hand. She'd now lost her iron grip on her robe again, to hold the objects he'd given her. Her robe gaped open yet again, and he averted his eyes. She wasn't his to look at.

"Thanks," she said, after downing the two pills. She set the water on the floor next to her spot on the bed. She looked up at him, wondering exactly what needed to be said. Thanks didn't seem like enough. There was an absence of thought in her head, she felt like a clean slate. She wasn't perfect in his eyes anymore—she couldn't be. Now they were on an even keel.

"Jess, last night," she began, wanting him to look at her again. He did, for just a moment—at her raccoon-like eyes, where the mascara had run from hours of crying; her matted down hair from god-knows what—and then he turned to look towards the door. Someone was pounding on his front door.

"Damnit, it's probably my roommate. I'll be right back," he promised, and she nodded silently. Taking a deep breath, willing himself not to pound the hell out of his forgetful, should-be-latchkey roommate, he moved quickly to the door and opened it.

"She here?"

He didn't look good—his clothes thrown on hastily, probably upon realizing she wasn't just in the shower—and worry covered his face. His question wasn't much of one, he didn't sound like he'd searched far and wide. He'd come straight here, knowing.

Jess nodded.

"Can I talk to her?" Logan asked.

"It's not up to me," Jess shrugged. "Let me go ask her."

Logan nodded, not even taking a step further into the apartment as Jess walked off and down the hall. When Jess appeared back in the doorway to his room, she looked up at him, trying to read his face. He furrowed his eyebrows, and cleared his throat.

"What is it?"

"Logan's here."

"He's—what? Why?"

"Rory, you should talk to him, he wants to talk to you."

She was confused. Jess hadn't seemed to be a fan of Logan's, and his behavior was confusing to her. "Jess," she sighed.

"He's waiting. I'll go get him, okay?"

"Okay."

Logan appeared in the door a moment later, with no sight of Jess. Logan stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him. He gave her a half-smile. She pulled her robe closed again, and looked up at him finally.

"So, you're safe."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, I," she said softly, wanting to ramble, but couldn't.

"Rory," he said, moving toward the bed, and sat down on the edge, facing her. "Since we first ran into Jess together, I've been trying to tell myself that he's been the one pursing you, him the one not over what you guys had before," he lowered his head a little, almost forcing her to keep eye contact with him as her gaze slipped. "And last night, I knew better than to believe that you were just trying to have some fun. I shouldn't have given you the X," he paused, giving her ample time to argue, but she didn't. "When you weren't there when I woke up, first I panicked, but then it hit me. You were with him."

"Logan, this wasn't something I planned. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe."

"I'm not blaming you, Rory."

"But, we were together, Logan. You have every right to be pissed!"

"Because you fucked me and woke up in the bed of another man?"

His harsh words were what she was expecting, perhaps craving. But his tone didn't deliver the effect she'd anticipated. "Yeah."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"No, we've never," she shook her head, not finishing her sentence. She didn't have to. He nodded, and stood up. He moved over to where she sat, and kneeled on the floor in front of her. He smoothed her hair down and smiled at her. She'd never felt so confused.

"Here's what I think. I think maybe you should."

"What?"

"I like you, Rory. I get the feeling that the feeling is mutual. I know we don't have a commitment, which by the way I don't even really do, but I don't want to rule that out with you. I want us to be able to give whatever this is a shot."

"But?" she supplied.

"But, it's more than obvious that you two have no closure. So, I'm proposing that you find it."

"By sleeping with him?"

"I don't know—talk, walk, screw his brains out, something."

"Logan," she tried to muster up her argument tone. "It's been forever, I have closure."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Because either you have don't have proper closure or there is still very much something between you."

She was quiet, and averted her eyes. "Do you still want to be with him?"

"No," her voice weak, unconvincing. He lifted her chin with two fingers, and she sighed. "I don't know."

He nodded. "Find out. You know where to find me."

"Logan," she said as he began to stand up from his position.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He smiled, and touched her cheek. His touch lingered, and she wanted to cry more at that moment more than she'd ever wanted to before. He turned and walked out of the apartment.

Jess knew he had to go back in there. He looked at his bedroom door. His role had solely been that of caretaker—at least he assumed that was her desire. He would stick to that, and get her home. He knew he'd made the pledge to get her safe and be done once and for all before, but this time, after seeing Logan's face and knowing of her actions prior to his arrival the night before—this time maybe it would stick. The only thing he couldn't figure was, how Logan had seemed to be calm, yet she hadn't left with him. Maybe he was letting her get ready and he'd pick her up later? He had to go back in there.

He knocked on his own bedroom door, as if he didn't belong there. She called for him to come in, and he moved to stand awkwardly in front of the bed.

"So," he said.

"So," she said, as if in agreement of the awkwardness.

"You need a ride home? You can use my shower first, if you want," he started.

"Can you come over here for a second?"

He nodded and moved cautiously towards her. She patted a section of bed next to her hips, and he sat.

"Do we need closure?"

Her question was a simple one, but perplexing all the same. "What?"

"Closure, something we're missing."

"Where is this coming from? Logan?"

She nodded. "He says it's obvious we need it."

"Oh."

"Do you ever think about me?"

He didn't want to go down this road. It led nowhere good. He shifted uncomfortably, and wished he hadn't established eye contact earlier. He couldn't look away, and she saw the turmoil in his eyes.

"Oh, okay. I get it."

"Rory, no, you don't. Of course I think about you."

"But you don't want to do this, right?"

"Do what?"

"You don't still love me," she said slowly, as if it were hard to get the words out into the air.

He looked at her, trying to keep himself composed. She was the only person who'd ever gotten to him this way, and he always tried to keep his walls up though he knew it nearly impossible with her. It seemed to get harder and harder.

"I will probably always love you."

Her eyes widened, and he could swear he saw relief in them. "Jess," breathed.

"But that doesn't mean I think we should be together. You were right, before, to turn me away. You need to explore these new things, and I shouldn't have interrupted."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"How can you say that? You just said you still love me!"

"I do. And it's because I love you, that I want you to be happy. Look around, Rory, I have nothing to offer you. Telling you I love you doesn't produce a life to offer you."

She shook her head, protesting his words. "I don't want anything from you, I just want to be near you."

"It's not enough, you'd learn that too quickly."

"So, you think Logan's right? We just need closure to put this behind us?"

"Last night you told me yourself that you were trying to get me out of your system. You wanted to move on with him, that's why you did what you did. I'm not judging you; if anyone understands what it is to try to put the feelings we had for each other away, it's me. As much as I hate to admit this, Rory, the guy seems to care about you. And if after last night, he's still coming around," he paused, hoping she'd catch his meaning and not make him say it.

"Logan thinks we should sleep together."

Jess raised his eyebrows, a bit taken aback.

"You still think he's right?"

"That's his idea of closure?"

Rory nodded.

"I don't think he's ever needed closure."

Rory smiled at his words. "So, what now?"

It'd been her first words to opening up the possibility of a new relationship to them years ago. Now it was her first words to open up the possibility of what it would be like in a world without the other.

"I can take you home."

She shook her head. "I need to be alone. I'll take the bus."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

He didn't want to know if she was going to be in Logan's arms tonight. He knew she wouldn't be in his, and that was enough for him to try not to think about. He leaned in towards her, unsure if his intent were to kiss her, hold her, or just touch her, but he froze just a breath from making any skin-to-skin contact.

"I probably shouldn't," he whispered.

"No, probably not," she whispered back, tears threatening.

He nodded. She gathered her robe about her once again, and stood up, moving to the door. He heard the shower start up in the bathroom next to his room, and he sat there, stunned. He decided he should probably go into the front room, to give her privacy to change when she got done. He sat on the couch, trying to find the focus to read a book, but stared blankly at the page.

Some unreal amount of time later, it could have been five seconds or five hours, she stood next to the couch, robe folded in her hands and purse on her arm.

"Jess?"

He looked up and stood quickly. "Yeah?"

"I'll always love you, too."

He nodded. What do you say to that, really? He'd never be able to say all the things he'd want to say throughout his life to her in these five seconds. She turned to leave the apartment and just one thought popped into his head.

"Goodbye, Rory," he blurted out, causing her to turn and smile sadly.

"Bye, Jess."

And then she was gone.

AN: Before anyone freaks out, this isn't done. And that's all I can really say about that. I continue to thank you guys for reviewing, for having such strong opinions. I think that's great, and I'm glad that (most) of you are enjoying my attempt to do something different.


	17. Anew

"Some party last night, huh?"

"Some party," Rory agreed, flopping down on the couch next to her mother.

"Did you see the look on Luke's face when Patty pinched his butt?"

"You'd think he'd get used to it by now," Rory shook her head, looking sad.

"I think being with me has lulled him into some false sense of security, like all the grabby old women in town think he's off limits somehow."

"Silly Luke."

"So, just two days left with my favorite girl!" Lorelai hugged Rory to her.

"Hey, bones being crushed, here."

"Sorry. I miss you when you go back to school!"

"It's just New Haven, you can come visit me too, you know."

"It's just been nice having you around here for the last week. No more disappearances," Lorelai hinted.

"Yeah," Rory agreed guiltily.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Rory looked at her mom, and shrugged. She sat back against the couch and pulled a pillow into her lap, truly settling herself. It was past noon on New Years' Day. She had in fact spent all of her time with her mother or Lane since her return from New York. She'd not been in contact with either man since that last day in New York, taking the time to herself. Jess had made it clear that it was time to move on, for both of them. And Logan made it clear that he did not want to pressure her into a relationship. She was digesting it all, comforting herself by hanging out in her old haunts, catching up with Lane and helping out Lorelai at the Dragonfly. Taking long lunches at Luke's, and watching movies until three in the morning. Her moment of insight came last night, as she sat on the porch watching the snow fall. There was something about the way the fresh snowfall covered all the messy tracks of people that had come in and out of her house all night long, making the ground pristine and beautifully new again that made her stop and take notice. She inhaled deeply, and felt the corners of her mouth turn up. It was the first genuine smile that she'd had in private since before Christmas.

"I guess," she shrugged, not elaborating right away.

"Okay. Is there going to be some sort of puppet show? I could try to scrounge up some sock puppets, but I need to know how many players are involved."

Rory smiled at her mother's gentle, but not so subtle prying. She smiled at her and sighed.

"Three."

"Love triangle again?"

"It's sort of a complicated story."

"Dynasty kind of complicated?"

"Not quite."

"Go on."

"I don't really want to get into the sordid details, but sufficed to say, Jess told me that he thought that I needed to move on with Logan, and Logan told me that he felt I needed closure with Jess."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"And what do you think?"

"Good question. I've been thinking about nothing else all week."

"Can I interject some wise motherly advice?"

"I don't know, can you?" she teased.

"Rory, when it comes to guys the most important thing to finding happiness is just to follow what your heart is telling you. No matter what you think anyone else will think, or say about it. I know that's always been a concern to you," she frowned, and surveyed Rory's reaction.

"I know. And as confusing as the last couple of months have been for me, I think they're both right. Jess and I did need closure—there'd been so much emotion, you know, and it ended so suddenly. I didn't want to admit that it hurt me as much as it did. As it turns out, I didn't handle it so well."

"Hey, it's okay to be upset over losing someone you love."

"I know. I just hated to lose him. I hadn't even told him I loved him, Mom. And it's not like we can be friends, too much has happened. We can't go back from where we were. If we're around each other, we're going to be together. Obviously if that is supposed to happen, neither of us are ready for that yet. And I've known that. I think that was the hardest part. But we talked, and I finally feel like I can put it behind me in a way."

"Aw, honey, that's good. Right?"

"It is. I need to move on, I can't be stuck in the past. I'm not angry with him anymore, and it's kind of nice to know that we both really value that time we had."

"Wow, you guys are way too mature about this. I figured you'd be too scarred after being raised around seeing how Chris and I handled not being able to be together."

Rory smiled sadly. "It probably didn't help."

"Sorry."

"Well, I have Jess to thank. He says he just wants me to be able to move on and be happy. I think I've been feeling guilty with Logan, like I was moving on, and I shouldn't yet."

"Hence, his call for closure. Where do you meet these smart guys?"

"I have no idea."

"So, you want to be with Logan?"

"I don't know what will happen with us, but maybe. I know I feel invigorated and challenged with him."

"Yes, but is he a good kisser?"

"He's a good everything," Rory smiled, nodding.

"Wait, wait, wait—haven't you only had one date?"

"Officially, yes, but there have been multiple outings."

"And one of these outings included you sampling his 'everything'?"

Rory bit her lip and nodded.

"I think the student surpasses the master."

Rory rolled her eyes.

"So, what are you going to do now?"

"Well, right now I'm disturbing my mother to the point of her needing therapy," she giggled.

"Nah. I'll just mention your having used Logan as a sex toy to Luke, that will take the ick factor off of me, and cement it onto him."

"Why does he like you?"

"'Cause I'm good at everything, too," Lorelai wiggled her eyebrows at her daughter.

"Okay, the mental scarring is complete. I must leave you now."

"You've gone soft on me," Lorelai complained.

"I've never been partial to the sex talk. You're my mother."

"And you're my pretty daughter, bringing all those beautiful boys home, who only want to get into your pants, and I haven't decapitated a single one yet."

"Noted. So, change of subject?"

"Gladly."

"Movie?"

"Excellent."

-

Rory found herself in her dorm room again too quickly, the anticipation for starting a new semester coursing through her. She'd stopped off at the student store, and arranged all her new folders and books. She loved her new-class rituals, and the smell of new school supplies. Lorelai always told her it was a sickness, but she didn't care. Once her tasks were complete, she looked around the empty suite. Paris wasn't due back tonight; she'd left a note saying she was out for the night. Rory didn't have to ask where. She flipped on the television, scanning through the channels, stopping intermittently and staring for a moment before moving on. She got as far as the History Channel when someone knocked at her door. She put the remote down on the couch and moved to open the door.

Standing in her doorway was Logan, with a paper bag in his hands. She held in her smile and curiosity as she greeted him.

"Hey."

"Hey. Busy?"

"No, why?"

"Good," he said, moving in to the common room. "Your roommate here?"

"Nope. Paris is out."

"Hot date?"

"If you call Doyle hot, then yes," Rory tilted her head to one side, smiling at him.

"Yikes. That is truly frightening," he informed her.

"They're a very interesting couple," Rory said diplomatically.

Logan laughed. "But the nice thing about them is you having the place to yourself."

"I suppose."

He looked to the television and smiled. "Are you sure I'm not interrupting something?"

"Just what is wrong with the History Channel? Afraid you'll learn something?"

"Deathly."

"What's in the bag?"

"I think it's time to go over the rules again, Ace."

"I've been demoted!" she cried dramatically.

"Demoted?"

"I believe I'd managed to get you to say my real name in our last few encounters."

"Speaking of which, how are things?" he asked, somewhat vaguely.

"Things are good." She kept her retort just as vague.

"Good."

"I wanted to tell you," she said, her tone turning serious for a moment, "I'm sorry for how I behaved at the party. I shouldn't have asked you for the X, I wasn't," she tried to find the right words.

"I know why."

"I know you do, and you have been amazing to me, Logan. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am now."

"And that is?"

"Moved on. Not needing to forget unresolved problems. Optimistic about future endeavors."

"Future endeavors, huh?"

She nodded. "Whatever those might be."

"I see. Though I must say, I didn't do much. You just seemed like you needed a little nudge."

"Well, you nudge effectively."

"Is that what I do?"

She blushed, and nodded. "You do. So, what's in the bag?"

"Ah. Here."

He handed the brown paper bag and she opened it, pulling out a collection of Aleksandr Pushkin's poems. She fingered the leather binding, and opened it gently.

"Gee, I'm disappointed. I thought I'd at least get a good sniff out of you."

She smiled and looked up at him. "I love it. And I'll smell it later, when I'm alone."

"Like an alcoholic and a bottle of whiskey?"

"I admit it. I have a problem," she laughed. "You didn't have to do this," she said, looking up at him.

"Consider it a really good excuse to need to see you. I have to admit, I couldn't stop thinking about you after that night."

"Me either."

"Good. Now, just promise me one thing?"

"Do I have to agree before you tell me what it is?" she smiled at him.

"Next time I make your mind go blank with pleasure," he said, leaning in towards her and tracing her lip with a single finger, "I want you stone cold sober."

She nodded, with the slightest motion, as if hypnotized by his words. A shiver went down her spine, and his lips met hers for the first time this new year. She dropped the book on the couch, and wrapped herself around him, ready to make good on her promise.

True to his words, her mind did go blank, not worrying about where this would take her, what new adventures he'd take her on with the Life and Death Brigade, her new classes and the workload that would come along with it. Gone was the looming cloud overhead of if she'd get a summer internship at a paper and all past relationships. All the worries and random thoughts that normally cycle through her mind dissipated as he led her into her bedroom and they began anew.

_The end._

AN: Thanks to all who've reviewed this story. To me, this was more about a journey for Rory, finding new experiences and trying to move into a new place. I think she needs to let herself experience college, and Logan is a way for her to do that. She seemed to be holding herself back so much the first year. And as much as my Lit heart hopes she and Jess find their way back together later, now isn't the time. That would be another story. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed, no matter whom you thought she needed to be with.


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